


Rebellious Nobodies

by PrincessSmuttButt



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crime, Eventual Relationships, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Multi, Smut, Unrequited Love, Violence, ereri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-04-23 19:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 116,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4888657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessSmuttButt/pseuds/PrincessSmuttButt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They had a gun to my head now, but I could hardly feel it. I was watching his face, watching the tears as they flowed, and all I could feel was bliss because I knew that this was what love was. As they prepared to pull the trigger, and his dark eyes widened, I smiled and mouthed the words to him as clear as day: I love you."   </p><p>When naive, oblivious first-year Eren Jaeger gets drunk at a frat party, he finds himself thrown unceremoniously into the world of Levi Ackerman--the elusive, mysterious senior with a sexual aura unlike anything Eren has ever experienced. His mind is ravaged with desires for him, until he is practically consumed by his image, even as he becomes aware of the fact that he knows close to nothing about Levi Ackerman. They find themselves drawn to each other, as much as the world seems to tell them that they shouldn't be together.</p><p>Then Eren meets Mikasa, Levi's seemingly perfect cousin. She tries to warn him about Levi, telling Eren that he has a dark past and a twisted future. Only when Eren finds himself dragged down into Levi's underworld, riddled with hidden skeletons and blood-stained hands, does he understand--but by then, it is too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: I Know I Had A Good Reason

**Author's Note:**

> Hey sexy peeps!
> 
> Welcome to my first fic on this site--super excited about it :) 
> 
> I won't say too much cuz I don't wanna spoil the story, but I'll reiterate some warnings:
> 
> there WILL be explicit sexual content in this fic.  
> there will also be violence, though I'm not sure exactly how much yet.
> 
> i'm also not sure how long it's gonna be yet--I have about 7 chapters written so far.
> 
> Not sure yet how often I'll update.
> 
> Thanks, enjoy!

Prologue

I Know I Had A Good Reason

 

“What am I going to do when you graduate?”

            _How am I going to survive?_

With his other hand holding a book up to his eyes, he started running his fingers through my hair as I lay my head in his lap. The way he always did when he was thinking hard about something. If it wasn’t my hair, then it was a cigarette or a pen.

            “I don’t know. You’ll have to read a lot of self-help books, I think.”

            “Probably,” I laughed. “Why don’t you stay close by? Work in the city?”

            “It depends. I don’t really know what’s going to happen,” he replied. But I knew he was lying. I could just tell. I think he knew exactly what was going to happen. He was going to leave after he graduated. Of that much, I was certain—I wasn’t certain of anything else. I closed my eyes and felt his fingers in my hair. His fingertips brushing my forehead.

            “Hey,” I said.

            “What?”

            “What are you reading?”

            “Whitman.”

            “How come?”

            “His poetry calms me down.”

            “Why do you need to calm down?”

            “Because you drive me crazy, that’s why.”

            My face became flushed as I opened my eyes. He wasn’t looking at me. His eyes were still looking at the book. He always did that. Said really romantic things, or acted with heart-crushing affection, with such nonchalance. He would utter things that could make the most uptight person blush and squeal, and then turn away like it had never happened. It made my stomach churn. I reached up and touched his lips.

            “Can you read me a poem?” I murmured. He glanced down at me. “I like the sound of your voice. And I haven’t read a lot of Whitman.”

            “All right.”

            He put the book down for a second and moved his hand from my hair so that he could stick a cigarette in between his lips and light it. Once the air smelled of tobacco and he was breathing the toxins into his lungs, he put his hand back on my forehead and grabbed the book. I closed my eyes again.

            “Stranger, if you passing meet me and desire to speak to me, why should you not speak to me? And why should I not speak to you?” he read.

            “That’s it?”

            “Mhmm.”

            “What’s it called?”

            “To you.”

            “I like it. It reminds me of how we met,” I smiled.

            “How so?”

            “Well, the author is talking about random people talking to each other because they feel like it, right? No other reason?”

            “Right.”

            “That’s how we were, remember? We kept making up excuses to see each other, when really we should’ve just talked to each other. We should’ve taken Whitman’s advice, I guess.” I opened my eyes and found him gazing down at me. I couldn’t tell what kind of expression he was wearing.

            “You have a weird way of thinking,” he said with a sigh. I just shrugged. Then I reached up and grabbed the cigarette, took a drag of it myself, and began almost instantly to cough. He scoffed with a smirk and whisked it back.

            “You should really quit,” I said, my voice muffled through the coughing. His fingers started tracing patterns on my skin, and I curled up more tightly in his lap.

            “Yeah?” he said, turning back to his book. “You should really mind your own business.”

            “I’m serious. What am I supposed to do when you die super young because you smoked so many cigarettes and I’m left all by myself?”

            I had meant it to be a joke, but a cloud came over his face as I said the words. The light in his eyes just then made me nervous. It was a kind that I’d never seen before, swirling with a unique pain that I knew I’d never be able to understand. I sat up, very much aware of his change in demeanor, and scanned his face.

            “What’s wrong? You know I don’t mean it—you’re sexy when you smoke.” I was trying to make useless amends. “Smoke as many cigarettes as you want...”

            He held my gaze tightly, intensely, before finally looking away.

            “You talk like we’re gonna be together for a long time,” he mumbled.

            “I mean, I guess I can’t tell the future, but...” My voice trailed off. I wasn’t sure what to say after that. My mouth wasn’t able to articulate the thoughts in my head. I couldn’t discern them from one another. “I’d _like_ to be together for a long time.”

            “Eren.”

            “What?”

            He crushed his half-smoked cigarette on the ashtray and put his hand to his temple.

            “Let me be honest with you. What we have right now—what we’re doing—it’s just that. _Right now_. Understand?”

            Of course I didn’t understand.

            _Of course I don’t understand._

“You can’t tell the future either,” I said softly. “How do you know it’s just for now? It could be forever, for all we know.”

            “It’s not forever. You know it’s not. I told you that. When we started this whole thing. I told you. I warned you. Remember?”

            “Yeah, I remember. And I told myself not to get attached,” I said. I put my hands on his thighs and leaned forward, staring straight at him until he was forced to stare back. His eyes moved to my lips, daringly close to his. “But I don’t think we can really control those things.”

            “I think that’s bullshit.”

            “Bullshit or not, I’m attached now.” I put my lips just barely on his. They were soft and tasted like tobacco and lavender. I held them there for a few moments, before pulling back. There was no way for me to control what happened next. “I love you, Levi.”

            I moved to kiss him again, but he put his hand on my chest and pushed me back. His brow was furrowed, his lips tightly shut, his breathing oddly erratic. I was taken off-guard.

            “Don’t say that,” he hissed. “You have no idea what that word means.”

            “...Yes I do. Of course I do.”

            “No you don’t. You have no fucking clue.”

            “How can you _say_ that?” I cried. “How can you just invalidate my feelings like that? I know what love means, and I _know_ that I’m in love with you.”

            “Stop it.”

            “Why?”

            “You’re digging your own grave.”

            “Fine, maybe I am! But I might as well go all the way, right?”

            “You know who you should be with? Mikasa. Go be with Mikasa. She’s really in love with you, you know.”

            “But I’m in love with _you_.”

            “Yeah? And just what is it you love about me?”

            “It doesn’t matter. That’s a stupid question to ask. You could be the most terrible person on earth, have no redeeming qualities whatsoever, and it wouldn’t matter for shit. I’d still love you.”

            “ _Stop saying that word._ ”

            “What is your problem?” I stood up, my temper flowing through the blood of my steaming limbs. “It’s not like I’m asking you to say it—”

            “But you are,” he interrupted. “Why would you tell someone you love them unless you want them to say it back, huh?”

            I opened my mouth and waited for my retort, but it never came. My voice was caught in my throat, as a tsunami ravaged my insides. I stared at him, sitting on the couch with the book turned over in his lap and the smell of tobacco still lingering on him. I looked at him, really looked at him—his dark eyes, his thin lips, his straight eyebrows, his nonchalant expression—and I knew, without a single doubt in my mind, that I loved him. There was nothing anybody could have said, including myself, to convince me otherwise.

            “All right. Maybe I do want you to love me,” I finally sighed. I couldn’t even pinpoint the emotion I was feeling. “But even if you don’t, it doesn’t change anything. Nothing. Don’t tell me that I don’t love you, because I do. I know that I do.”

            There was a terrible silence after I said that.  

            “Eren. Look at me.”

            Only when he said that did I realize that my gaze had flitted to my feet. I forced myself to obey, to look into his eyes. He was leaning forward on his knees, staring up at me with a glare that was unflinching, piercing. My fingertips tingled.

            “What I told you back then hasn’t changed. And it never will,” he said. His voice was soft, as if he were telling me a secret—not a deep secret. But a secret, nonetheless. “I can’t fall in love with you.”

            “You don’t know th—”

            “Yes I do.” I could see the droplets of sweat forming on his temples, but he stayed perfectly still in his position. “I can’t fall in love with you. I’m in love with someone else. As long as that someone is breathing, I can’t love you. No, no, I take that back. It doesn’t even matter if that someone is breathing. As long as that someone has a place in my mind, I can’t love you. Even if that someone is dead. And I don’t think it’s fair for me to lie and tell you that I can.”

            I couldn’t look into his eyes anymore. I stared back down at my feet. I didn’t want him to see the tears.

            _I knew this, too...it’s not like this is a surprise..._

“That’s exactly what I said to you when we started this mess,” he sighed. “Nothing’s changed.”

            “It’s just a vicious cycle, isn’t it?” I said. More to myself than to him. “You love someone else. They don’t love you. And you can’t love me. Even though I love you so much it hurts.”

            “Eren.”

            When he said my name and looked at me like that, I knew that he was lying to me.

            Lying straight to my fucking face.

            He did love me.

            I knew he did.

            He didn't love anybody else.

            But he was telling me that he didn’t love me, and I couldn’t figure out why.

            “I...”

            _I’m so stupid._

_Why did I let myself do this?_

_What was my reasoning?_

_I know I had a good reason. I must have..._

“Eren. Come here.”            

            The tears were streaming down my cheeks in defiant rivulets. There was no holding this back. I felt as if I had known this for a long time; there had been a knowledge, gnawing at the hopeful and naïve parts of my mind, that this wasn’t going to last. I mean, there was no reason to assume that it would. He had told me, This isn’t going to last. And still I let myself hope. I had pushed that knowledge aside and left it screaming in a dark crevice of my mind that I forgot about in the bliss of being with him.

            Without looking up at him, I slumped back down on the couch, hugging my knees to my chest. I suppose, in my right mind, I would have been terribly embarrassed. Letting him see me like that. But not then. Not at that moment. At that moment there was nothing I could do but cry as silently as my anguish would allow. I felt him move beside me, but I still didn’t look. I hugged myself more tightly and pressed my lips against the coarse fabric of my jeans, tasting my own salty tears as they flowed.

            _He loves me._

_He loves me._

_Why doesn’t he want to be with me?_

Then, I felt him move closer. His hand began stroking my hair back from my face. In a repetitive, gentle, rhythmic movement. Back and forth...back and forth. His touch, that thing for which I thirsted and craved, made the tears flow harder. He was touching me so tenderly. Had he ever touched me like that? Yes, yes, of course he had. He must have.

            He brought his other hand up to my hands, clasped around my legs, and pressed his lips to my temple. They were cold and refreshing against my feverish skin. He kept his lips there and continued stroking my hair. Each time he breathed out, a new wave of sorrow washed over me, again and again and again like the defenseless sand on the shores. Again and again until I was sobbing and he was holding me, letting me grasp at him, bury my face in his neck. Until I was sobbing and he was whispering in my ear, “I’m sorry.”

            _I don’t want your apologies._

_I don’t care about that._

_I just want you to love me._

_Nobody else._

_Just._

_Me._


	2. I Am A Lightweight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let me just say that I had never been drunk before in my life. I’d had a few drinks here or there, a cup of wine or champagne at a wedding, a sip of beer, things like that. But I had never been really wasted, never had the pleasure of losing all sense of self and surroundings. So when Jean dragged Armin and me to a frat party, I didn’t know anything about my alcohol tolerance."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1!
> 
> Much excite!
> 
> Wow!
> 
> Things are happening!

**1**

**I Am A Lightweight**

I’ll start at the beginning. When I first met Levi.

Let me just say that I had never been drunk before in my life. I’d had a few drinks here or there, a cup of wine or champagne at a wedding, a sip of beer, things like that. But I had never been really wasted, never had the pleasure of losing all sense of self and surroundings. So when Jean dragged Armin and me to a frat party, I didn’t know anything about my alcohol tolerance.  

            I didn’t want to go to the party at first. I very vehemently wanted to stay in my dorm with Armin and play Pokémon (I still needed to finish the national Pokédex) and lament my lack of direction in life while he sat in the corner and read Kafka. But Jean wouldn’t take no for an answer, wouldn’t even consider the fact that we wanted it to be a relaxing Friday night. Though, in his defense, our Friday nights had essentially all been exactly the same for the entire month that we had been at college, so I suppose he was in the right in wanting to branch out a little bit.

            “There’s this frat down the road where the guys are apparently really nice,” he said. Armin closed his book with a sigh, the sad little one he always gives when he really doesn’t want to do something but also really doesn’t want to offend anybody, and adjusted his glasses.

            “I don’t like drinking—I can’t stand the smell of alcohol,” he said softly.

            “You don’t _have_ to drink, you know,” Jean replied.

            “Aren’t frats, like, really douchey?” I said in Armin’s defense, my eyes still on my 3DS screen as I lay on my back on the bed. “I hear a single guy can’t get in unless he has three girls with him. That’s pretty sexist.”

            “I thought so, too. Apparently this one’s different, especially this year...I can’t remember the name of the president. Ernie? Elvis?”

            “Erwin,” Armin interrupted. “His name is Erwin Smith.” It was just like Armin to know everything about a subject that nobody expected him to know anything about. Jean snapped his fingers and nodded.

            “That’s it, Erwin Smith. Anyway, let’s go. If you don’t like it, we can leave. But you’ve been so _lame_ and I want to experience what college is really like,” Jean said. He stood up and was already putting on his jacket.

            When he said that, I closed my 3DS. I hated admitting when Jean was right—because it often meant that I was wrong by default—but his description of this real college experience was appealing. Some part of me had always imagined myself drinking and partying in college, finally releasing myself after years in the prisons of middle and high school. I liked to dance, anyway. And the Pokédex could always wait. I even wondered, sitting up in bed, whether I might meet a cool girl (or guy, I guess, who knew?) to hook up with. It had been a long time since I’d touched anyone.

            “All right. Armin, let’s go, yeah?”

            “Et tu, Eren?”

            “C’mon, it’ll be fun. And like horse-face said, we can leave if you’re not having fun.”

            “Shut up, Jaeger.”

            “All right, all right, I’ll come,” Armin said. He took off his glasses and pushed them to the top of his head. “But I’m not taking a single sip of alcohol, okay?”

            And that was how I ended up at a frat party, downing red solo cups filled with mystery alcohol. Completely, irreversibly shitfaced. Just as the real college experience desired.

            After we had been there about forty-five minutes everything was blurry and it seemed like people didn’t really understand me when I tried to talk to them. Not that I cared much—I was busy dancing, throwing my hands in the air and letting my body do what it wanted. I occasionally heard myself scream. My body and mind were completely consumed by absolutely nothing and I just danced, sloshed my drinks around, tried at times to focus my vision on the only familiar faces. Armin and Jean were their names...right? That’s right. The blonde kid and the guy with the horse-face—they know me. I know them. Are they talking to me? They should just dance with me.

            I grabbed them and I tried to dance with them but suddenly, as someone grabbed the red cup in my hand, my legs stopped working. They just stopped, right then and there, and I felt my knees buckle. The floor rushed up to meet me, but before it could, the blonde kid (Jean?...no, Armin?) and horse-face held me up. So nice of them, I thought, and smiled my best smile.

            “You guys are great,” I told them. Armin started saying something to me, his voice hot in my ear, but I shooed it away because that felt weird. I just wanted to keep dancing. “Dance with me, guys, dance with me.”

            “No, Eren, we have to go back home,” Armin said, and I was finally able to understand what he was saying. But nothing was processing in my head. The room was spinning, colors flashing in my eyes that were so very bright and so very pretty, and the music was pounding in every fiber of my body. I knew that if they let go of me I would fall, but I wanted to dance anyway.

            “But I wanna keep dancing!”

            “You’re drunk, Eren. We’re leaving,” Jean said, but he said it in such a rude way.

            “I’m not—ahem—drunk! I’m perfectly sober.” I laughed at myself, and I laughed at them, and I leaned my head on Armin’s shoulder because my head was feeling too heavy for my neck. I rubbed my cheek on him and I begged him to dance with me, I really needed someone to dance with.  

            But before I could really give them the articulate argument that I had worked out in my head for why they should dance with me, my stomach started turning. Somersault after somersault, like it was trapped in a tiny cage and trying desperately to escape. I felt like my entire insides were going to break free and all of my happiness and desires to dance and goofy drunkenness disappeared, replaced by sickness and a headache and obliviousness to anything but my own discomfort. I heard Armin saying something to me, then saying something to Jean, but it was too late for them to do anything. Even in my stupor I knew that.

            I crouched forward and, as all the other party-goers noticed what was happening and moved away, I emptied my stomach onto the floor.

            I puked fucking everywhere.

            I didn’t want Armin and Jean holding me up anymore. I broke away and fell to my hands and knees, just wanting to lie down or sit down or do anything but stand up. I could see my own puke in front of me and that made me even sicker and then I remembered all that alcohol and dancing and oh gosh here it comes again—another round of vomiting.

            But around me everything was silent. I realized, after a few moments, that there was a pair of feet in front of me. Right where I had puked. Nice shoes, really nice shoes that I would have liked to see dancing—black boots. Well, not really black anymore. I had thrown up all over them. I wiped my mouth with the back of my sleeve and looked up. I saw a guy standing in front of me (at least I _thought_ it was a guy but who knows could’ve been anyone I guess), arms crossed and face blurry because I was still drunk as fuck. But I could tell that he was looking down at me and his eyes were not kind, not eyes that were welcoming my dumbfounded gaze and goofy smile. There was a cigarette hanging from his lips and it was still smoking and I wondered how cigarettes tasted all of a sudden.

            “Aw, I puked on _your_ shoes, didn’t I?” I giggled, pointing up at him with an involuntary hiccup. “Geez, sorry, man...”

            Then, instead of accepting my heartfelt apology, the guy with the black boots and the cigarette and the cold eyes reached down, grabbed me by the collar, and pulled me straight up. Even right there, I couldn’t make out the features of his face, and I could hardly feel anything. Except that I wanted to throw up again. I think he said something to me then, because I could kind of see his lips moving, but I didn’t hear it.

            Next thing I knew I was getting punched in the face.

            Hard, too. He swung his fist up against my jaw and suddenly I felt nothing but pain and I didn’t want to dance or drink ever again. I couldn’t find my (non-existent) balance because he punched me again and I stumbled back again. Then I felt a knee in my stomach, which made me double over—though I miraculously didn’t puke. I could hear Armin calling my name somewhere in the distance, like, way in the distance. While I drunkenly stumbled around and put up my hands in useless defense and got the shit kicked out of me. I wasn’t sure how many people there were or where we were or why I was there or _why_ I was in so much pain and was that blood coming from my lip and my nose and _fuck that hurt_ am I getting beat up right now?

            “Filthy fucking brat,” I heard someone say. Then I got punched again and I finally just let myself fall back onto the ground. The entire world was spinning. I knew it wouldn’t end there. I could sense the guy with the black boots still advancing, coming toward my nearly incapacitated body, but when I glanced up, someone was holding him back. The much bigger person grabbed him from the underarms and held him up so he couldn’t move at all. Was I safe? I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. I couldn’t see anymore. I couldn’t really think anymore.

            Armin and Jean helped me to my feet and nearly dragged me back to the dorm, where I slept for fourteen hours.

* * *

 

            The one good thing that came out of that night was that I met Mikasa. I didn’t remember it much because it happened while I was drunk and nearly unconscious, but Armin and Jean bumped into her while they were carrying me back to the dorm (Armin was kind enough to relay the story to me, patiently, the next day). She was on her way back from the gym and apparently saw a sight that was so pathetic she couldn’t just leave them. Armin and Jean told me later that I had been mumbling a lot, saying very incomprehensible things and giggling even though I had lots of cuts and bruises and wouldn’t stop bleeding. So, of course, Mikasa knew immediately that I was drunk.

            She offered to carry me back to the dorm because Jean was a little bit tipsy himself and Armin wasn’t really the strongest guy around. They had to agree. Mikasa hoisted me onto her back and held me up by the back of my legs and the only thing I really remembered was feeling someone beneath me and trying my hardest to hold onto their neck. I also remembered Mikasa being really strong, remembered having no trouble leaning the entirety of my weight on her, and I remembered that her hair smelled like a forest. I was completely out cold by the time we got to the dorm, but Mikasa also tended to my wounds and the next day she came by to check on me, which was good because it meant I had made a new friend—and a good one at that—but it was perhaps the only good thing to come of that night. I woke up completely, utterly, indescribably mortified. And, of course, with a vicious headache.

            Jean wasn’t in the room when I sat up, rubbing my temples. But I could hardly do that, because a terrible pain exploded in my torso. With a sharp inhale I grabbed my bare stomach (someone had taken my shirt and pants off, leaving me in my boxers) and crouched forward, then felt the ache in my arms and my legs, and I realized that there was gauze wrapped around my forehead. I still didn’t recall exactly what had happened the night before, and everything was a blur. If this was the true college experience, I didn’t want any of it anymore.

            “Hey, you’re awake.” I looked up, gritting my teeth, and saw Armin sitting in that chair in the corner. He might as well have lived in this room with Jean and me, he was here so often. But I had never been gladder to see him. What I hadn’t been expecting to see was a girl sitting on the floor next to him, working on her laptop, with the blackest hair I’d ever seen and really pretty lips. She had a little silver hoop in one nostril and a strand of her hair was dyed bright blue. When Armin spoke, she looked up, and the fuzzy memories of last night returned to me. I remembered the moments when I was just starting to get drunk, I remembered dancing like a fool, I remembered puking, I remembered getting beat up, and I remembered someone carrying me on their back to my dorm room. That would all explain the bruises and the cuts that covered my face, why my abs and head hurt so badly, why this girl’s face seemed familiar.

            _This must be the girl that carried me,_ I reasoned.

            “You brought me back, didn’t you?” I said to her. She nodded, with a serious but not unkind facial expression. “Erm, thanks. I feel really embarrassed right now.”

            “It happens,” she replied with a shrug. “You could argue that it’s all just part of college.”

            “A part that I am not dealing with ever again,” I sighed. “I’m assuming that we never did proper introductions. I’m Eren.”

            “Mikasa. Nice to meet you. I just came by to check and see if you were doing better. Last night you were in terrible shape.”

            “Yeah, I can actually see two feet in front of me. Seriously, thanks for bringing me back. I must have been kind of heavy.”

            “Nope.”

            I blinked, not really sure how to respond to that—was she calling me scrawny, or calling herself strong?

            “Do you remember what happened last night?” Armin asked. I took a deep breath.

            “Not really. I do remember getting drunk and then getting the shit kicked out of me.”

            “You were gone in, like, half an hour,” he chuckled. “You’re a real lightweight, Eren.”

            “Shut up.”

            “You puked all over the dance floor. On someone’s shoes—and that someone did not take that lightly,” Armin explained. “He’s the one that beat you up.”

            “Do you know his name?”

            “Levi,” Mikasa said. She said it with a tone that I can only explain as exasperated. “Levi Ackerman. He’s my older cousin.”

            “Oh.” I hadn’t heard that name before, and it seemed ironic that the two were related.

            “He probably would’ve beaten you harder if the frat’s president hadn’t stepped in,” Armin continued.

            “Really?”

            “Yeah.”

            I decided then, as I had the events of the previous night recalled to me, that I had majorly fucked up, and needed to do something to atone for my actions. Maybe they had already forgotten what my face looked like and all the stupid things I had undoubtedly said, but that didn’t change the fact that I had thrown up all over the frat house and caused a commotion and probably gotten blood everywhere. And maybe I should have felt angry with this Levi person for roughing me up, but oddly enough, I just felt very guilty for throwing up all over his shoes. The only things I remembered about him were the black boots and the cigarette in his mouth.

            After Mikasa was gone, I dragged myself out of bed and took a long, hot shower, put some real bandages on my cuts, ate a protein bar, and took some Advil for my headache. It was starting to get kind of chilly out so I stepped into a pair of jeans and a nice sweater, combed through my hair, sprayed my best cologne. If I was going to apologize, I had to do it right. I was not one to half-ass anything.

            I went out to the town where the college was located and spent two hours buying gifts. For the frat I got a Domino’s gift card and the most recent release of Call of Duty (I figured they’d enjoy something like that). For Mr. Black Boots, I got a box of really fancy chocolates and the nicest lighter I could find, since the only thing I really knew about him was that he smoked cigarettes.

            I realized on my way to the frat house, on a gorgeous Saturday where the campus was full of students getting in their last few Frisbee sessions before it really got cold, that I didn’t know where Mr. Black Boots lived. Maybe he was part of the frat. Surely they’d know.

            I could already feel my cheeks turning hot and bright red in humiliation when I walked up to the porch of the frat house and rang the doorbell. I tried to straighten my back and seem like I wasn’t completely ashamed of myself, but they were meek attempts. I had put the gifts in really nice bags with bright tissue paper, and I held them nervously behind my back. The door opened, and a young man appeared. I figured he must’ve been a few years older than me, but he looked like he could’ve been thirty. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt and his muscles were absolutely giant—the only way I can describe his face is chiseled, with a jaw-line that was carved from marble. He had blonde hair smoothed to one side, insane eyebrows that must have taken hours to shape, and when he smiled the whiteness of his teeth nearly blinded me. Of course he was a frat boy, I thought. It would have been a crime for someone so perfect to _not_ be.

            “Um, hi,” I said. He was really tall. I felt weak and scared and in desperate need of protection standing in his shadow.

            “Hello,” he said with a smile. He leaned nonchalantly on the doorframe and crossed his arms. “Can I help you?”

            “Uh, yeah. I don’t know if you remember me from last night,” I began, scratching the back of my neck nervously. “I was the one who...you know...”

            “Oh, you’re that kid!” he said. “Sure, sure, I remember.”

            “I came to...” I paused. Even his demeanor seemed too perfect. “I came to apologize for last night. You have no idea how embarrassed I am about the whole thing.”

            “You came to apologize?” he said. I nodded, and held out the bag with the gifts I’d gotten them. I already felt the weight lifting off my shoulders.

            “Yeah. I feel really bad. I puked everywhere and was probably so much to deal with.”

            He took the bag and looked inside, then he looked back up at me and chuckled.

            “That’s really nice of you,” he said. “What’s your name, kid?”

            “Eren. Eren Jaeger.”

            “Well, Eren, it’s nice to meet you for real. I’m Erwin Smith, senior and president of this frat.” He smiled that picture-perfect smile and reached out to shake my hand. “I’m assuming you’re a first-year.”

            I nodded and shook his hand. He had a very firm grip. 

            “This was really very nice of you—the guys will be excited to have the game,” he said. “But you didn’t have to do this. _I_ should be the one apologizing.”

            “You? Why? For what?”

            “We should’ve taken better care of you. We’re usually good at making sure people don’t get too drunk and rowdy. And look at you—you’re covered in bruises. I’m sorry for that, too.”

            “But you didn’t do anything wrong. Weren’t you the one who stopped it?”

            “Yeah, but I really should’ve been paying more attention. For that, Eren Jaeger, I’m sorry,” he said. He had taken me completely by surprise.

            “Um...thanks...” I mumbled. I sounded like an idiot, I knew, but I didn’t know what else to say to this guy. This model citizen.

            “Are you feeling okay? You took a nasty beating.”

            “Yeah, I’m fine. Actually, do you know if that guy is here? Levi whatever?”

            “Levi? No, he’s not here,” Erwin said with a furrow of his brow. “God knows he’d never come to this house if I didn’t drag him every once in a while. Why’re you looking for Levi?”

            “Oh, I thought maybe he was in the frat. I have to apologize to him, too.”

            “Apologize?” Erwin scoffed. “ _He_ should be the one apologizing to you. You’re probably gonna be sore for days. You should have him pay your medical bills or something.”

            “No, no, I’m fine, really,” I smiled. “Either way, I should probably talk to him. Do you know where he is?”

            Erwin ducked inside the house for a moment and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. He asked me to turn around, and he put the paper on my back and wrote something down. It was an address and the name ‘Levi Ackerman.’

            “That’s where Levi lives. One of those apartments for rent just off-campus—walk that way and you’ll get to it.”

            “O-okay, great. Thanks. For a second I thought he lived here, too.”

            “God no. He hates it here.”

            “But he was here last night, right?”

            “I dragged him here—he usually comes if I ask him to. So in a way, it’s my fault you got beat up so badly,” he laughed. I laughed along, but really awkwardly. Just looking at the address made me very nervous.

            “He’s probably home if you’re planning on stopping by, but I wouldn’t recommend it,” Erwin laughed again. That was just great to hear. “He’s moody, especially after last night. It might not be the best time.”

            “Well, if I don’t do it now, I’ll probably end up chickening out. Thanks again, and I really am sorry,” I said with a smile. He waved as I walked off the porch with the address and his gift in my hands, wondering what kind of terrible situation I had gotten myself into. But I did still feel bad, and I had the strange urge to meet this person. See what his face really looked like and whom it was that caused my body to ache like this. (And I was secretly hoping for an apology anyway.) So, against my better judgment, I walked to Levi Ackerman’s apartment and knocked on the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I understand this may not happen in real life, I totally feel like this is something Eren would do. Whatevvvssssssss


	3. I'm Now A Tea-Drinker

**2**

**I’m Now A Tea-Drinker**

 

            It took a while for anybody to open the door. I heard noises from inside—a shower running, loud music playing (sounded like dubstep), a voice shouting. After about thirty seconds I figured the people inside hadn’t heard me, so I knocked again, more loudly. The voice inside quieted down, I heard the volume of the music get lower, and then the door opened. A really cute girl answered, with golden eyes that reminded me of summer and auburn hair let down to her shoulders. She was a little bit shorter than me, was wearing a v-neck and a skirt, and looked a bit confused when she saw me.

            “Hi,” she said.

            “...Hi.”

            “Um...looking for somebody?” she asked with an uncertain smile. Past her shoulder, I could see into the apartment. It was small, but even from where I stood, it looked spotless—I had never seen anywhere that looked cleaner.

            “Yeah, actually. Is this where Levi Ackerman lives?” I said. She blinked, pursed her lips.

            “Yes, he lives here. Do you know him?”

            “Well, not really.” I realized how confusing this situation must be for her. “Uh, my name’s Eren.”

            “Hi, Eren. I’m Petra.”

            “That’s a pretty name.”

            “Thanks,” she said. She was starting to perk up as I made conversation and her smile was of the contagious type. “Why do you wanna see Levi?”

            “Well, last night, I kind of—”

            “Oh my gosh, look at your bruises!” she cried. Her face suddenly took on a concerned expression, with her brows furrowed and her hands on her hips. “You must be the one from last night that Levi was telling us about. You poor thing. I’ve told him a million times that he can’t be so violent, but does he ever listen to me? No, of course not.”

            “I—”

            “You’re probably here to file charges or something, aren’t you? Dammit, Levi, I knew you’d get yourself into trouble one of these days—”

            “No, no, I’m not here to file charges,” I said with a laugh. “I’m actually here to apologize.”

            She paused.

            “You want to apologize to him?”

            “I threw up all over his shoes and I feel really bad and embarrassed.”

            “Look at you, you’re so sweet,” she smiled. “You don’t have to worry, cutie, he doesn’t need your apology. Probably doesn’t want it, either. And he doesn’t deserve it, if you ask me. I know he doesn’t listen to my lectures, but I’ll probably give him one anyway.”

            “Even if he doesn’t want it, I feel like I need to apologize,” I insisted. “Is he here? Can I talk to him?”

            “He’s in the shower. But if you really want to talk to him, you can come inside and wait for him to come out.” She opened the door wider and gestured that I come inside. I thanked her and walked in and it smelled just as clean as it looked. There wasn’t a lot and it was small, which was normal for students, I guess. There was a really tiny kitchen and a couch with a table in what I assumed was the living room. There were three doors which Petra explained to me were the bathroom, her room, and Levi’s room. The walls were very white, but there were some cool pieces of art hanging on the walls—some portraits, things that looked like they had been splattered onto the canvas by five year-olds but still looked really awesome somehow. There were lots of little knick-knacks, and pictures taped to the walls. I wanted to take a closer look at them, but I was too nervous to ask, so I just sat down on the couch with the gift in my lap and stared at the paintings. There was an ashtray with cigarette butts on the table, which I found kind of strange because the apartment didn’t at all smell like cigarette smoke.

            “You a first-year?” she asked, sitting on a nearby chair and tucking her skirt beneath her. I nodded. “I thought so. I’m a junior—Levi’s a senior.”

            “Oh. So are you and Levi...you know...?” I didn’t finish because I felt really dumb for even starting to ask, especially when Petra widened her eyes and shook her head, rather desperately.

            “No, no, we’re not,” she said, but she was blushing. “I mean, it’s not just the two of us in here. We have two other roommates.”

            “Oh. Sorry,” I said with a nervous chuckle. It was still strange that I had never really seen Levi’s face, but I felt like I had met him already. I had talked about him with so many different people by this point. My stomach turned at the thought of that bathroom door opening. I was nervous about what I would find there. And what his reaction would be to seeing me. The stupid drunk kid that threw up all over his shoes.  

            “Your apartment is really nice,” I said to fill the silence. The only sound was the shower running, and that sound made me uncomfortable.

            “You are so sweet,” she said with a smile. “Honestly, you are adorable.”

            “Oh, thanks,” I replied. I wasn’t really sure what to say to that. I hadn’t had many pretty girls tell me how adorable I was, and it was weird. On one hand being adorable was a good thing (right?), but on the other hand didn’t I want to be sexy and shit?

            “And your eyes are just gorgeous,” she said. Now that, I had heard before, and I had gotten used to just responding with my nicest smile.

            Just then, the bathroom door opened and I heard a voice say, “Who are you talking to, Petra?”

            And out came the infamous (in my head, anyway) Levi, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a towel. When I saw him, something was triggered in my subconscious and I felt a pang of fear and pain pulse through me. Even if I didn’t remember exactly what had happened last night, my body definitely did, and it was very scared of this guy.

            He was way shorter than I expected. In fact, he was extremely short. I wasn’t too tall—about 5’7”—but Levi was perhaps 5’3”. His shortness was the kind of obvious shortness that makes people say, Wow, you’re short. Not that it mattered much, because with this guy, his height was perhaps the last thing people paid attention to.

            Now I have to clarify that over the past few years I had become rather comfortable with my fluid sexuality and I wasn’t afraid of being attracted to pretty much anybody. There were a lot of things that I liked and a lot of things that turned me on.

            But when I saw Levi Ackerman for the first time, I had never wanted to fuck somebody so badly in my entire life, and I knew that I had made a terrible mistake in coming here.

            His body was perfect. Not in the same way that Erwin’s had been perfect, with the broad shoulders and defined muscles and big-manly-man vibe. Levi was slimmer, leaner, but his muscles were so toned and chiseled that I wanted to cry, lamenting both the fact that my muscles weren’t like that and the fact that I was not having sex with him right at this very moment. His abs, his shoulders, his arms, his legs, everything. I hoped I wasn’t drooling. His skin was still wet from the shower, as was his black, black hair, peeking out from under the white towel he had placed there. I could tell immediately that he shaved regularly from how smooth his skin looked: his legs, his arms, even his underarms. He had tattoos of roses with thorns around both of his biceps, with a beautiful red hue, and on his left arm the tattoo ran all the way down to his wrist. There was also a tattoo of a fountain pen on his collarbone.

            Both of his ears were pierced with little black studs, there was a hoop through his left ear cartilage, and another stud in his left eyebrow (he seemed to prefer his left side to his right). Even from under the towel I could see that he had an undercut that was very deliberate.

            “I wasn’t aware we had guests,” he said, looking at me. His gaze made my skin burn. He said it in a way that implied he felt he should’ve been wearing something, but also felt no inclination to put anything on. I couldn’t even imagine how ridiculous I looked, my face as red as a tomato as I sat with my hands in my lap and my muscles tense on this man’s couch.

            “This is Eren,” Petra said. Levi narrowed his eyes. They were very piercing, and his voice was low and gravelly, like he was bored and didn’t particularly want to be speaking but knew that everyone else wanted to hear him.

            “You’re that kid,” he suddenly said. This was the moment I had been dreading.

            “The one that you hurt for no reason,” Petra interrupted. I was very afraid, then, that Levi was going to come up and give me another deck to the face, tell me to leave his house and never come back, that he never wanted to see my stupid face again. He walked forward and I think I flinched. _Here it comes,_ I thought.

            But it never came. All that happened was Levi sat down on the couch beside me, crossed his legs, and started rubbing his towel against his wet hair. I swallowed and tried not to let my eyes wander down to his boxers.

            “What do you mean, for no reason?” he asked her. “He vomited on my best shoes.”

            “Still! He’s only a first-year.”

            “An eighteen year-old should know how much alcohol he can consume before becoming a fool.” I felt like I was being talked about as if I weren’t sitting right there, willing that I not get a boner—since my pants were kind of tight. “What did you say your name was?”

            “Eren. Eren Jaeger,” I stuttered.

_What if he asks me something else?_

_How much conversation can I hold with this guy?_

“Eren Jaeger,” he repeated. I never wanted to hear anybody but him say my name ever again. “Well, then? What are you doing here?”

            I knew then that I would not be getting any apologies. Not that I minded anymore.

            “He came to _apologize_ ,” Petra said, as if she were speaking to a child who was just learning how to speak. Levi raised his eyebrows and reached over to the table, where there was a pack of half-finished cigarettes. He took one out, put it in his lips, and lit it with a lighter that (thankfully) wasn’t as nice as the one I had just bought. All while I watched with unflinching diligence. I was concentrating more than I would have liked on his lips as he drew in from the cigarette, then let the smoke out from his open mouth.

            “You came to apologize,” he said. “That’s rich.”

            “I feel bad for throwing up on you,” I blurted. “And getting overly drunk and stuff. I’m not like that, usually.”

            “Nobody’s usually like their drunk selves. That’s the point of alcohol, isn’t it?” he said. “And the exact reason I don’t touch it.”

            “Anyway, I’m really sorry. I can clean the shoes if you want—oh, I also brought this to apologize.” I was speaking quickly, even for me, and the fact that I was aware of that made it a million times worse. I put the bag on the table and never wanted to be a cigarette so badly in my life.

            “Look at how cute he is, apologizing to _you_ ,” Petra sighed. “You should be the one apologizing, Levi. Do you see his bruises?”

            “Fucked you up pretty badly, didn’t I?” he said to me, still with the same monotone expression and gravelly voice. I shrugged.

            _Please fuck me up even more._

He grabbed the bag and took out the chocolates.

            “I hate chocolate,” he said. My heart dropped, and I looked to Petra. She gave me a sympathetic look and shrugged her little shoulders. He put the box of chocolates haphazardly on the table.

            “There’s more,” I said softly. Dejectedly. Without looking at me, he reached in and grabbed the lighter. He took it out, lifted it, looked at it in the light. The cigarette was just sitting there, smoking in his lips.

            “Why did you get me a lighter?”

            “Because I didn’t know what else to get you. The only thing I know about you is that you smoke.” I pointed to his cigarette. He looked at me, back to the lighter, and back to me. Finally, he put the lighter on the table and I assumed his silence was a sign of approval.

            “That was very thoughtful of you, Eren, but you really didn’t have to,” Petra said. “This asshole doesn’t deserve your gifts.”

            “Says the one who lives with said asshole,” Levi scoffed. Suddenly he stood up, and I flinched again. “I’m making tea. Want a cup, Eren?”

            As he walked to the kitchen I realized that there was one more tattoo I hadn’t noticed. Wings along his back and shoulder blades. Beautiful, intricate black wings. It took me a moment to remember that he had asked me a question.

            “That’s the closest he’ll come to thanking you or apologizing to you,” Petra mumbled.

            “Oh, uh, sure. I’ll have a cup.”

            “Earl grey, jasmine, green, or black?”

            “I’m not really a tea person...what would you recommend?” He got a kettle out, then looked at me and took another drag from his cigarette.

            “Black.”

            “Okay, I’ll have black.”

            “Petra, I’ll make you jasmine.”

            “Don’t bother. I have to leave in a minute,” she said, standing up.

            _No, please don’t go,_ I thought to myself. I wondered if she could see the desperate look in my eyes. _Don’t leave me alone with him, I can’t do this._

“All right. Don’t forget to pick up more incense while you’re out,” he said.

            “Aye aye, captain. Nice to meet you, Eren. Sorry you have to put up with him,” she laughed. Then, as I watched sadly, Petra left me alone with Levi in his apartment. Only when he raised the volume of the stereo did I remember that I had heard music playing earlier. He tinkered with a few dials while the kettle burned and suddenly we were listening to opera. The silence was terrifying, but I didn’t know what I could say to break it.

            “So...what’s your major?” I finally asked. He leaned back on the counter and held his cigarette between his fingers.  

            “Journalism.” I could see him just barely tapping his bare toes against the tiles, in beat with the music. That seemed like a weird major for someone like him, but I didn’t say anything. “I’m assuming you don’t know yours yet.”

            “No, I do. Political science. I’m going to law school to be a prosecutor,” I said without hesitation. He blinked at me.

            “You sound very certain,” he replied.

            “I’ve known for a while.”

            We sat in silence for another few minutes. Then he poured out the hot water and mixed the tea and sat back down on the couch. I didn’t flinch this time. I held my mug in both hands and I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, probably Armin, but I ignored it. Levi’s cigarette was done, so he took it out and crushed it on the ashtray. He was holding his teacup really strangely, with one hand holding its rim from above. He leaned back on the couch and sipped it. I assumed his was black, too.

            “Thanks for the tea,” I said. He gave a slight nod and I wished that he would put on a shirt so I wouldn’t get a hard-on and embarrass myself even more. “And I guess I should also apologize for intruding like this. You didn’t have to make me tea.”

            “Well, I hate to admit it, but Petra’s right. I should at least make you tea after handing your ass to you like that,” he said. “You ever get drunk before, brat?”

            I knew that I should’ve been annoyed that he called me brat, but I honest-to-God wasn’t. I really just wanted him to talk to me more and say my name more because his voice was just as sexy as I’d hoped it to be when I saw him.

            “No. Maybe I should’ve known that I have such a low alcohol tolerance.” I chuckled and looked away, because I couldn’t handle looking at his face anymore. “I feel so embarrassed.”

            “Yeah, well, what you did was pretty embarrassing. If Erwin hadn’t pulled me off you probably would’ve lost a few teeth there,” he said. I didn’t doubt it.

            “Do you want me to clean your shoes or something?”

            “Are you kidding? I cleaned them as soon as I got home. But I don’t know if I’ll ever actually wear them again.” He sighed and I felt something building up in my chest, a desire unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I wanted to be the one making him sigh, wanted to somehow find myself feeling that sigh in my ear. My cheeks were really red now—I didn’t have to look into a mirror to know.

            Suddenly I didn’t want to leave. Even though I had been desperate for Petra to stay, I didn’t mind so much now that I was drinking tea and sitting on the couch and hearing him sigh. I glanced up at him and saw him taking a sip from his mug. I watched his lips close down on the rim of the mug, and I saw his tongue slip just slightly out as he drank the tea. His other hand was so close that if I had wanted to, I could’ve reached out and grabbed it.

            “How did you figure out where I live, anyway?” Levi asked. I bit my lower lip and forced myself to look away, but I could just feel him watching me.

            “Erwin told me. I stopped by there first.”

            “You get that bastard some gifts, too?”

            “Yup.”

            “Well, at least I got a pretty nice lighter out of your stupidity.”

            I couldn’t tell if he was making a joke or just being rude, so I ignored it.

            “I met your cousin, too,” I blurted. He raised his eyebrows at me.

            “You mean Mikasa.”

            “Yeah. She’s really cool. Are you two close?”

            “No. I mean, not really. We haven’t known each other long,” he said.

            “But you’re cousins.”

            “I know we’re fucking cousins.”

            I figured their relationship must have been complicated, so I let the subject drop. We probably didn’t have much else to talk about. But I was starting to get nervous that if I left, I would never get to see him again. Which, objectively, would have been the best option for me at that point. To just leave and get out of his life and have him get out of mine. But the thought of that was really, really unbearable. Even though I hardly knew him.

            _Come on, Eren. Do something—anything—so you can see him again. It doesn’t matter how._

_Am I gonna have to do this the old-fashioned way?_

_He’d just laugh in my face..._

“Hey...” I began, and looked up. His gaze was right there to meet mine. I drew in a breath as discreetly as I could. Before I could say anything, he leaned toward me a little bit and narrowed his eyes and I held my breath and felt like there was fire in my chest. Especially from this close the piercings were really sexy, nothing I would ever be able to pull off. His lips were so close. I wanted desperately to kiss them, bite them, suck them.

            “I’ve never seen eyes that color before,” he said quietly. “Blue or green?”

            “People disagree,” I replied. “Some say blue, some say green.”

            “Mm.” He leaned back again. He cracked the tiniest hint of a smile—one side of his mouth turned up just slightly. And then what I had really been hoping wouldn’t happen, happened.

            His eyes moved down to my crotch and there was no doubt in my mind that he could see the bulge there. It was so very obvious.

            _Can I crawl into a hole and die now?_

I put my mug down and crossed my legs, doing everything in my power to remedy the situation (at least a little bit). But there was really nothing I could do now. When I took a chance to glance at his face, he was still smirking like that, so I had to look away before my body got too hot. My mind was reeling now, desperate to find some excuse to see him again without embarrassing myself even further. There were so few options—what could I possibly do? Finally, I opened my mouth and just let whatever was in there come out. For some reason, I asked him about the music.

            “Which opera is this?” I asked.

            “ _La Traviata_ ,” he replied, with the accent. I wasn’t big on classical music or operas or anything like that, but I had a bit of knowledge about it because I liked to listen to it when I was reading or doing homework and didn’t want anything distracting me. So I had listened to _La Traviata_ before, though I couldn’t recall any of the melodies or harmonies or even the storyline. I never paid much attention when I listened to music like that.

            “Verdi, right?”

            He nodded, but wouldn’t take his eyes off me.

            “You like opera, Eren?”

            “Not really. I listen to it every once in a while.”

            “What do you usually listen to, then?”

            I wondered why he was taking the time to engage in a conversation with me. He seemed more the type to hastily kick me out of his apartment so he could be alone (or at least be rid of me).

            “Alternative, mostly.”

            “Favorite band?”

            “I can never pick between Arctic Monkeys and Franz Ferdinand. The Black Keys are great, too.”

            “Not bad,” he said, as if he had been testing me.

            “What’s your favorite?” I asked.

_Please don’t say Imagine Dragons, please don’t say Imagine Dragons._

“Foo Fighters and U2,” he replied. I let out a sigh of relief. “And Rachmaninoff.”

            “That Russian dude with the big hands?”

            He scoffed and took a sip of his tea.

            “That would be the one.”

            “Cool.” I paused. “Um, have you heard the Arctic Monkeys’ new album?”

            He shook his head and said, “You have, I assume.”

            “Yup, I pre-ordered it. It’s their best one, I think. You should listen when you get the chance.”

            And then the most magical thing happened.

            “Would you let me borrow it?” he asked. I sat up straight and blinked at him.

            “The CD? You wanna borrow the CD?”

            “Do you have hearing problems?” he sighed. “Yes, I want to borrow the CD.”

            “Uh, sure. I don’t have it with me—”

            “Obviously.”

            “—but I’d be happy to bring it some other time.”

            “Give me your phone.”

            I scrambled to get it out of my pocket and handed it to him. I saw his eyes pass over my crotch and tried to ignore the embarrassment. He smirked again, then swiped into my phone and went straight to contacts. I reminded myself to put a passcode on it.

            “I’m putting my number in. Let me know when you’re passing by with the CD. I’ll either be here or have one of my roommates open the door for you.”

            “Oh, uh, sure. Sounds good,” I stuttered. Our fingers brushed when he gave me the phone back and I had never felt so electrified. His smirk was gone and he was staring straight ahead, sipping his tea.

            And that was how, on a Tuesday night, I ended up back at Levi Ackerman’s apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins...
> 
> Hope you're enjoying! 
> 
> xoxo


	4. I Am Very Turned On

3

I Am Very Turned On

 

            “I wouldn’t say he was _nice_ , per se,” I said, “but he did make me tea.”

            “Damn, Jaeger, it must be love,” Jean teased. I glared at him.

            “Shut up. I never said that, horse-face,” I hissed.

            “Maybe not, but he’s all you’ve been talking about for the past two days,” he laughed. It was Monday night and we were having dinner and for the past two days I had thought of nothing but Levi, though I hoped that my friends hadn’t noticed. Jean’s comments dashed these hopes. I had waited about a day and a half before texting Levi and telling him, as casually as possible, that I could stop by his apartment with the CD on Tuesday afternoon. His messages were terse and cold, as I expected, but it didn’t matter.

            “No he’s not,” I answered. I hadn’t mentioned anything about my bumbling or my boner. Or the fact that I hadn’t been able to do anything except fantasize about Levi.

            “Be careful with him,” Mikasa said. Armin and I had invited her to have dinner with us. I liked her, and Armin did, too. And by the way Jean was looking at her, I assumed that he liked her, too. He had brought his own friend—a guy that he had recently started hanging out with named Marco. We were actually in the same history class.

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            “Levi can be dangerous.”

            “As my bruises prove,” I scoffed.

            “What I mean is that he’s carrying a lot of baggage,” she said. She was looking straight at me while she ate, and her gaze was unnerving. Similar to Levi’s somehow, which shouldn’t have been surprising. A little bit of the same blood ran through her veins, too. “There are a lot of skeletons in his closet you don’t want to see.”

            I shrugged because this wasn’t really a subject I wanted to discuss. I hadn’t known Levi long enough to care much about his baggage or his skeletons. Maybe in time this warning would make more sense, resonate more strongly in my head, but for the moment her words went in one ear and out the other.

            “He told me that you two only met recently,” I said. “You’re not close?”

            “We met a few years ago. Our family situation was never conventional, and we were living such different lives that we never met before then,” she explained. It still didn’t make much sense, but I definitely didn’t know Mikasa well enough to ask for any more information. “We know each other pretty well just because we’re really similar, and we’re gym buddies, but I wouldn’t say we’re friends.”

            I didn’t ask her anything else. I just ate my food.

            “You go to the gym a lot, huh?” Jean asked her. “Same.” I wished, for his sake, that he were less obvious. She nodded, but was silent, probably quite the blow to his inflated pride. Marco didn’t say anything, laughing softly, even after Jean threw him an angry glance.

            “So are you actually going to his apartment again?” Armin interrupted. I had almost forgotten that he was there. He had finished his food and was reading a book, somehow still semi-engaged in the conversation.

            “Yup. Tomorrow afternoon after class.”

            “To do what?”

            “Drop off a CD for him,” I mumbled. “I kinda want to get to know him better.” Armin raised his eyebrows and closed the book.

            “Get to know him better,” he repeated. “Eren, do you _like_ him?”

            It was never any use lying to Armin, but I honestly wasn’t sure what to say. I shrugged and put my fork down, unable to shovel down another bite. Not while I was thinking of how badly I wanted to stick my tongue down Levi’s throat.

            “I don’t know. There’s just something about him that I can’t really put my finger on,” I finally replied. “He’s...intriguing.”

            What I really meant to say was that he was intriguing and I wanted to fuck him.

            “Even after he nearly sent you to the hospital?”

            “Oh, right, that happened, didn’t it?”

            “Eren!”

            “Do what you want,” Mikasa said, “but just remember what I said.”

            “What kind of baggage are you even talking about?” I asked.

            “You’ll have to hear it from him if you want to go that far,” she said. I hated answers like that because it was like a dare—I wouldn’t recommend that you do it, but if you want to find out why you shouldn’t do it, do it. But Mikasa continued eating unfazed. I sighed and leaned back in my chair.

            “Well, be careful then,” Armin added. But then he threw me a smile and his eyes sparkled behind his glasses. “And make sure you tell me _every single detail.”_

I assured him that there would be nothing to report.

            Levi couldn’t be interested, I said.

            He just wanted my Arctic Monkeys deluxe edition CD. That was all.

            I didn’t have to say anything else because Reiner and Bertholt spotted us from across the cafeteria and sat down, and an entirely new conversation started. But I was still thinking of Levi. A burden that I was surely going to have to bear for a while yet.

* * *

 

             It was colder than I had expected, so I was shivering a little bit by the time I found myself in front of Levi’s door the next day. It was later than I had wanted, too, but my class had run late. I had my backpack and all of my things, and was fiddling with the CD in my trembling hands. When I knocked on his door, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, two parts of me started battling. One wanted Levi to be home alone so that I could have him all to myself again (though what I would do with him I had no idea), and the other wanted his roommates to be there so that I wouldn’t have to suffer alone. I couldn’t hear any music on the other side of the door, so I assumed that at least Petra was out.

            Levi opened the door. Thankfully (or not) he was wearing more clothes than last time. A plain black t-shirt but still in his boxers, and he had a cigarette in his lips already and a pen behind his ear and glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. For reading, I guessed, since he hadn’t been wearing them last time. He didn’t say anything when he opened the door. He just swung it open and turned around and stepped back into the apartment.

            “I brought the CD,” I stuttered.

            “No shit. Come inside.”

            I obeyed. I knew I shouldn’t have. I had a huge exam the next day that I needed to study for and I really couldn’t afford losing myself here, but when he said it, his words dug a hole straight through to my stomach and pulled me after him. There was nothing I could have done but whatever he asked me to do. I closed the door behind me, but didn’t take off my jacket or my backpack. Before walking back to the kitchen, he whisked the CD from my hands and put it into the stereo. The familiar sound of their music wafted through the air, and I smiled. He was home by himself.

            “The third track is definitely my favorite,” I said. He tapped his cigarette against the ashtray and took a drag.

            “You look cold,” he said suddenly.

            “It’s a little bit chilly.”

            “I’ll make you another cup of tea.”

            “No, you don’t have to—”

            “Just shut up and sit down. And take off that jacket, would you? You look stupid wearing it indoors,” he interrupted. And, of course, I had to obey. I put my backpack on the floor by the couch, took off my jacket and hung it on the door, and sat down. He was right, of course; I was still cold, shivering just slightly. I hadn’t dressed for the weather, still convinced that it was summer weather. As I watched him work his way through the kitchen, desire building up inside me like water against a cracked dam, I wondered again why the apartment didn’t smell even a little bit like cigarette smoke.

            “How are your injuries?” he asked when he brought over the tea. He didn’t sit down next to me this time. He stayed standing.

            “They’re fine. Not too bad,” I lied. I was still very sore, and the cut on my head hurt like hell even with the bandage on it. If he could tell that I was lying, he didn’t say anything about it. “Thanks for the tea.”

            “You come straight from class?”

            “Mhmm.”

            “Which class?”

            “English Lit,” I sighed. “I have an exam tomorrow, actually, so I should go...”

            “What’s the exam over?”

            “An in-class essay on Virginia Woolf,” I said. A class that Armin had begged me to take with him but I now regretted immensely. He nodded and crushed his finished cigarette on the ashtray. Then, taking off his glasses, he started moving toward one of the other doors. He gestured with a nod of his head that I follow. I put my mug on the table and did, like a little puppy. His ass looked really good.

            This was the door that Petra had mentioned led to his room—when I walked inside I realized that somebody else must have slept in there, too. One of his other roommates, I guessed. The room was small, but it was ridiculously tidy and organized. When I discreetly ran my hand along the desk, there was no dust; sunlight that crept in through the closed blinds revealed clean air, too. The beds were both perfectly made, there was a smell like lavender, and just being in there made me feel so dirty by comparison. There was no way I’d ever be able to get my room to look like this. Even the floors were spotless. I saw a Swiffer in the corner. It looked well worn.

            Levi walked straight to his desk. His laptop was open and the desk was just filled with books. I scanned through the titles, and everything ranging from politics to history to Shakespeare was there. I stood awkwardly in the doorway, admiring the room, as he sifted through the books and put his glasses and the pen behind his ear on the table. When I glanced at his bed, I felt sick to my stomach with the urge to push him onto it and fuck him senseless.

            “Here.” He took out one of the books and held it out to me. I took it. It was a copy of Virginia Woolf’s diaries. “It might be a little late, but it’s worth looking through.”

            “Wow. Thanks.”

            “Just don’t write in it.”

            “O-of course not.” I began flipping through it and noticed that there were already notes littering the margins, dog-ears and underlines and highlighted lines on a lot of the pages. The book had been read with care. Levi nodded, and then sat down in the chair at his desk. I wasn’t really sure what to do with myself then. He typed on his laptop for a few moments, narrowing his eyes, and then glanced back up at me.

            “Well? Are you gonna stand there like an idiot or are you gonna come in and read it?”

            “Like, right now?”

            “You have to study, don’t you?” He raised an eyebrow and just stared at me until I felt queasy. Levi was inviting me into his room to study with him. Maybe he remembered my boner and just felt really bad for me.

            “You’d let me study here?”

            He shrugged, then went back to his laptop. I watched him type for a few moments, watched him put his glasses back on and watched him start tapping his pen on the desk. I didn’t know what he was studying but he looked as emotionless as ever as he did it. Still reeling, I ran back to the living room, grabbed my backpack, and brought it into his room.

            “Take off your shoes. You can sit on the bed. Just don’t put your backpack on it,” he said without looking up. “Not like it matters. I have to wash the sheets anyway,” he grumbled. I stepped out of my sneakers and sat gently on the bed. I imagined him reading in it, sleeping in it, fucking in it.

            I crossed my legs and leaned back on the wall against which the bed sat. I opened up the book and started skimming through it, taking quick notes in a notebook. I was amazed that he had this book here, and had been so willing to give it to me as soon as I’d mentioned my exam. It was helpful, and I was enjoying it, and after a while Levi changed the music to Frank Ocean, who I generally liked to listen to. He didn’t say a word as he worked, and I didn’t say anything while I read, either. We didn’t need to say anything. This was better than anything I could have imagined—sitting on Levi’s bed, reading a book that he had given me, studying for my exam, while he sat at his desk doing whatever it was he was doing. I wondered how someone like me had gotten this lucky.

            _What have I done to deserve this amazing thing?_

After about an hour, Levi stood up and took off his glasses again and just looked at me for a few moments. I blinked back at him.

            “Something wrong?” I asked.

            He moved to the door and closed it, even though there was nobody else in the apartment.

            “Why did you come here?” he said.

            “What do you mean? You asked me for the CD.”

            “Why did you ask Erwin where I live and come to bring me a lighter?” he said. I felt like I was being cross-examined, especially from the cold look in his eyes and the way he was standing, making himself seem way taller than he was, in the center of the room.

            “Because I felt bad for puking on you,” I murmured.

            “All right. But why did you come _back_ today,” he continued, “even after I gave you those bruises and beat the shit out of you?”

            “I—”

            “Why did you agree to come into my room and study here?” he said. “Don’t I terrify you?”

            “Of course you do,” I chuckled. That seemed to surprise him. He was silent, furrowed his brow and just stared at me. Something about what he had asked, the way he was looking at me, was putting honesty in my words. It was making my nerves calm down. A kind of obligation to talk to him like a normal human being for once. “But I think I want to get to know you more than I want to be scared of you.”  

            “What is it you want from me, Eren Jaeger?” Levi asked.

            _Would it be inappropriate to say that I want my cock so far up your ass that you can taste it?_

            I blushed like a kid. Like a pre-teen with a desperate crush on a classmate. I blushed and I shrugged, having no idea what I could say. And then it happened again—without warning, just as I started imagining what I _really_ wanted from him, I became as hard as a rock. And he saw.

            “You wanna fuck me? Is that it?” he said.

            I was mortified.

            _He just came out and said it._

_Fuck._

“I should go, I’ve bothered you long enough,” I said hastily. I needed to leave. Needed to leave and splash my face with cold water. I couldn’t even stand to look at him because I couldn’t read his expression at all. I scrambled to my knees on the bed and leaned over the edge, stuffing my things into my bag and mumbling childish I’m so sorry’s.

            _Why don’t you come beat me up again—if you don’t then I will._

            I was so busy and blurry-eyed that I didn’t noticed him come to the bed until I felt an arm around my neck and another at my waist, and I was caught between being afraid of the touch (it had caused me so much pain) and craving it to the point of actual thirst. I flinched when he grabbed me, preparing for the blow—head, stomach, _dick_? But the blow never came. Not conventionally, at least.

            His right arm around my neck and his left arm at my waist pulled me back until I felt my back against his chest. He was on his knees, grasping me firmly. And then I felt his breath on the back of my neck and I wondered if maybe he _had_ beaten me up and I was just dead. The goose bumps spread as he moved his lips to my ear and I turned my face away. I didn’t want him to see my face like this. My muscles were tense and my heart wasn’t beating anymore. Then again, wasn’t this what I wanted? Wasn’t this what I had been dreaming of for the past three days? Since I’d first set eyes on Levi?

            “That is what you want, isn’t it?” he murmured. I bit my lip, hard, to keep in my reactions. “To _fuck_ me?”

            He slipped his hand beneath my shirt and I felt every detail of his fingers, the palm of his hand, moving up my stomach and chest. While he pulled me back harder against him. I started to get limp, lean my weight back, forget myself and let the raw pleasure of his touch seep into my skin. He breathed out into my ear and I had to close my fluttering eyes and open my trembling lips to let out the heavy breath there. As he moved his left hand further up beneath my sweater, I could feel his hard-on right up against me, and the sensations were even more intense than I had imagined them (and I had imagined them quite often the past few days). Levi breathed out into my ear again and I couldn’t help the sigh from leaving my mouth. As my lips opened more widely in response to his touch, he wrapped the fingers of his right hand gently around my neck, and then ran his index finger along my lower lip.

            “Do you want me to stop?” he murmured.

            The tips of his fingers slid into mouth, and I grazed them with my panting tongue.

            “No,” I breathed. My voice was low and raspy. I wished he would kiss my neck, too. Wished that he would put his tongue in my ear and put his fingers deeper in my mouth.

            “I won’t fuck you just yet,” he said. He pulled me back harder and I gasped, leaned my head further, tilted my chin up and let my head fall back against his shoulder. He was holding my face, his thumb stroking my jaw-line while his fingers made their home against my tongue.  “But I do feel a little bit guilty for roughing you up. Not to mention...”

            He lowered his voice a little bit more, brought his lips closer to my ear.

            “You’re pretty damn cute, Eren.”

            I honestly wasn’t expecting what came next. He took his left hand and moved it down, down, down. With experienced fingers he undid the button of my pants, unzipped them, and slid his hand beneath my boxers. Then, as I gasped again and widened my eyes, he put his right hand against my back and pushed me down against the bed, hard, leaning over me. He grabbed my cock, kept me pinned to the bed with his other hand, while I grasped the sheets and breathed out against the mattress. As he moved his hand rhythmically and nimbly along my member, I heard a moan come out of my lips, loud and desperate and gravelly. I heard it, but I still wondered if I could have possibly made that sound, my fingers grasping more tightly and then loosening their grip the next second.

            I had had hand-jobs before. But nothing like this. He controlled me like a puppet. When he moved a little bit faster, a little bit rougher, I came close to crying out and shut my eyes and dug my fingers into the bed. When he loosened his grip and was softer, slower, I too loosened my grip, let out the breaths building inside of me and let my eyelids flutter. The pleasure was overwhelming, leaving my lips through moans and groans and muffled grunts against the sheets to which he pushed me. I felt his body curling over mine, his chest against my back, his breaths colliding with mine. I lost sight of absolutely everything in this dream, this fantasy that was suddenly reality.

            When I finally came, there was sweat pouring over my face and I was panting. He slid his hand out of my pants and let go of me and stood up from the bed, leaving me to fall flat against it. He grabbed one of the disinfectant wipes on his desk and wiped his hands, and I could see through my drooping eyelids that he was smirking at me. As if I had done something terribly amusing. Which, I suppose, I very well could have. I closed my eyes and waited for my breathing to return to normal and for the tingles in my body to subside, though I didn’t think they ever would.

            “That’ll satisfy you for now,” he said. I opened my eyes and looked up at him through the tendrils of hair that were falling over my face now. I could hardly comprehend that the way he was talking implied there would be a next time. “Now go study for your exam. You can take my book if you want.”

            I finally managed to sit up, zipping up my pants and straightening my sweater. There was no point bothering with my hair. It was done for the day. As I packed up my things, I glanced back at him and saw that the bulge in his pants was still there, untouched.

            “Don’t you want—?”

            He shook his head before I could answer, and pulled out a cigarette and lit it. With the lighter I had bought him.

            “No. Go, so that I can clean the sheets,” he replied.

            “Sure. Um...thanks, I guess.”

            He didn’t respond. He just looked at me, with the cigarette between his fingers, and nodded toward the door. I left, flustered and perplexed.

            And wanting so badly for him to touch me more.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally getting to the good stuff mwahaha
> 
> i'd love to hear your thoughts so far! <3


	5. I Get A Hot Tutor

4

I Get A Hot Tutor

 

            I didn’t hear from him or see him for three weeks after that. I texted him a few times, using the fact that I still had his book (and had used it to ace my exam) as an excuse, but received no response. I didn’t see him around campus at all, either. But I couldn’t get the feeling of his touch off my skin, or the sound of his voice out of my ear. I needed to see him again—I was becoming desperate for him. He had given me a taste of what was possible, a too-small taste that was driving me crazy.

* * *

 

 

            The day after visiting Levi's apartment, I was lying in bed, staring up at the top bunk that Jean had claimed. It was about ten o’clock. He wasn’t back yet. I was alone in the room, had finished my homework, but couldn’t sleep. Levi’s book was on the desk by my bed. I was reeling. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but I couldn’t, because every time I so much as blinked he was there in the darkness, and it was as if I could feel his hands on me all over again. I wanted them there again, his fingers on every inch of my body. And as I thought of him, in the darkness of my room, I inevitably got very uncomfortably hard. I threw a glance at the door and considered getting up to lock it, but decided not to. I would just have to be very careful. I took a deep breath and spit into my hand, then reached down and grabbed myself under the sheets of the bed. I closed my eyes and let the image of Levi fill my mind, let the urges take over my body as I groaned softly.

            _How would he feel if he knew I was masturbating to the thought of him?_

After a few minutes, I heard the doorknob start to open. I hastily withdrew my hand and turned my back to the door, pretending to be a sleep. My face was red and I was sweating and of course I was still hard and it was uncomfortable and my entire body was frustrated, but I couldn’t even dream of releasing myself—now that Jean was in the room. I lie as still as possible.

            _Fuck._

When Armin passed me a note during lecture the next day, asking me what I was spacing out about, I knew that at some point, something had gone wrong in my life. I was sitting, my head leaning on my palm, staring blankly at the blackboard in a huge lecture hall. It was a first-year economics class, so it was all first-years—I had made most of my friends in the class and on my dorm floor with me. Armin beside me, Reiner, Bertholt, and Annie (who was generally pretty quiet) behind me, Jean on my other side. Armin gently nudged my shoulder and passed me a piece of paper. I blinked out of my stupor and glanced down.

            _You seem distracted. What’s up?_

I glanced over at him, but he wouldn’t make eye contact with me. My gaze fell to his notes, which were detailed and organized and written so beautifully that it looked like an ancient scripture. I grabbed my pen and responded.

            _Nothing, just tired._

Jean was falling asleep, his head drooping every few moments. I knew there was no point in trying to concentrate on lecture. I could just read the textbook. I thought that perhaps I should’ve skipped class that day. Behind me, I vaguely heard Bertholt and Reiner whispering. And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Reiner lean forward and, with his pencil, lightly scratch the back of Jean’s neck. The next instant, he jumped in his seat, looking around and bumbling incoherently. As the class erupted into laughter and the professor seethed, Armin passed the paper back to me.

            _I’m not an idiot. Lunch after class?_

Instead of responding, I just gave him a quick nod, and then put my head down against the desk and heaved a sigh. I was tired and hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep and I wanted very desperately to see Levi again—a crush, some might’ve called it. But it felt like more than that. Even though I had only really talked to him twice.

            At the end of class, our professor handed our most recent exams back. I didn’t even want to look at it because I knew that I had bombed that one, and it wasn’t something I wanted to be thinking about at the moment. Without looking at the score, I shoved the test sheet into my backpack and stood up.

            “Lunch at the campus center?” Reiner suggested as we walked out. Jean, certainly still bitter about their prank during class, scratched the back of his neck and shrugged.

            “Nah, busy today.”

            “Us, too,” Armin stumbled before I could say anything. Bertholt and Reiner looked over at each other and shrugged, while Annie stood as stoic as ever between them. Armin and I walked a little bit further with them.

            “Yo, Eren,” Jean said. I looked over at him, anticipating the next question. “What’d you get on the exam?”

            “None of your business, horse-face.”

            “That bad, huh?” he snickered.

            “I bet I did better than _your_ sorry ass.”

            “Then why don’t you just tell me?”

            “Get off my back, jerk.”

            “Watch it, dickhead!”

            “ _You watch it, asshole!”_

            “Guys, stop!” Armin cried, exasperated. I was close to throwing a punch at that point, my fists clenched. Jean had always had a talent of annoying the fuck out of me when he felt like it, and for some reason he was obsessed with competing against me. Sometimes I was surprised that we had managed to become friends. And at that specific moment, I was so aggravated from everything that was piling up that I could’ve punched anything that breathed.

            “How do they live together?” Bertholt murmured. 

            “Eren, let’s just go,” Armin said. “We’ll see you guys later.”

            He grabbed my arm and led me away, toward the opposite side of campus. As we walked, I crossed my arms and stared at the cobblestones at my feet, letting my temper slowly subside.

            “Eren?”

            “What.”

            “You’re tense.”

            I didn’t respond. Armin took off his glasses and cleaned them with his sweater. A breeze blew by, an icy one, and his long blonde hair nearly whipped me in the face. He asked me to hold his glasses for a moment while he pinned back his hair with a rubber-band.

            “How did you do on the exam?” he asked. “I won’t tell Jean, I promise. You can tell me.”

            “I don’t know. I haven’t checked.”

            “I’ll check for you.”

            We walked into the dining hall and sat down at the nearest empty table. He grabbed my backpack and took out the test that I had shoved into it.

“How bad is it?” I ventured. Armin scanned the page, and then looked up at me with that stupid sympathetic look. I hated people pitying me.

            “You sure you want to know?”

            “Forget it.” I grabbed the test and put it back in my bag. I wasn’t hungry, so I made no move to go get any food. “Even though I studied my fucking ass off.”

            I should note here that nobody has ever been able to deny that I am the hardest worker you’re ever going to meet. Of course, that doesn’t mean I have natural talent or brilliance in anything. Which is why in school, I had to study especially hard to do well. Not to say that I was dumb or slow or anything like that—but, like I said, nothing came naturally to me. I had always done well and gotten As and been in the top of my class. Armin was more naturally intelligent, though we got similar test scores. But college was not as smooth as I thought it’d be. Getting the As was harder than in high school, and I found myself staying up until at least two in the morning studying more often than not. And still, I was struggling.

            “Maybe you could get a tutor?” Armin suggested. “Lots of people get tutors.”

            “Can’t _you_ just help me?”

            “Of course I’ll help you,” Armin smiled. “But I don’t know how much good I’ll be.”

            “Don’t give me that bullshit, you’re brilliant.”

            He blushed and turned away, in that innocent way of his. How I’d managed to become best friends with someone who was so very different than me is still a mystery. But we balanced each other out. Talking to him was helping me calm my nerves a little bit, as it always did. He went up and grabbed us a plate of fries to share, since he claimed he wasn’t hungry either. And I knew the interrogation was about to begin. But at this point, the emotions were about to erupt.

            “You seem really out of it,” he said. “Is this about what I think it is?”

            “Probably,” I grumbled, shoving a fry in my mouth.

            “You never did tell me what happened at Levi’s apartment on Tuesday,” Armin pointed out.

            “Hell if I even know,” I said. “That guy, he’s...”

            “I’ve heard a bit about him through the grapevine,” Armin said. “Admittedly, I looked into him a bit myself after what Mikasa said about him.”

            “Yeah? And?”

            “He seems popular. Not popular like in the same way Erwin is—more like people are afraid of him and admire him at the same time. He has a weird dynamic.” Armin looked down at the table, the way he did when he was strategizing about something. “Apparently, he and Erwin are nearly inseparable, and nobody really knows why someone like Erwin would hang out with someone like Levi.”

            “Why?”

            “Because. Erwin is a jock, he’s served on the student government, he’s the president of a frat, and everybody really loves him. Levi is different. There are rumors that he’s written for the school paper before, but nobody is really sure. Other than that, his life is essentially a mystery. He’s not very...amiable, I guess you could say, but he still has a really broad friend group. Also a mystery. They’re just different. But their first two years here especially, you couldn’t find one without the other.”

            “You and I are different, too. But we’re best friends.”

            “True enough,” he smiled. “I wish I had more to tell you.”

            “If I knew anymore about him through rumors and stories and gossip, I would honestly feel so creepy,” I laughed.

            “Well, you wouldn’t be the only one. Seems as if the life of Levi Ackerman is an enigma to the entire student body.”

            Just then, I saw a familiar face out of the corner of my eye. I looked over and saw Mikasa weaving her way through the tables, another girl at her side. Mikasa was carrying a plate of food, and the girl she was walking with had two plates completely filled. When I caught her eye, I lifted my hand in greeting, and she waved back.

            “There’s Mikasa,” I said.

            “Oh! Call her over!”

            “Are you having lunch with anyone?” I called to her. She shook her head, and then she led her friend over to our table.

            “Hello,” she greeted.

            “Hi, Mikasa. How are you?” Armin asked.

            “Fine. This is my friend, Sasha.”

            “Nice to meet you, Sasha. I’m Armin, and this is Eren.”

            Sasha and Mikasa sat down at the table with us. Sasha was definitely not as graceful of an eater as Mikasa was, shoveling the food down her throat and occasionally making a contribution to the conversation. Armin and I were still picking distractedly at our fries. After our conversation about Levi, and now that Mikasa was here, my mind was ravenous for him. He invaded my brain and completely took over everything, until I could see his face when I closed my eyes and felt desire throbbing within me. I was worried that if I did so much as open my mouth, something terribly embarrassing would come out. I kind of wanted to ask Mikasa more about Levi. Maybe she could give me some insight about why he wouldn’t respond to my text messages, even after giving me the hand-job of the century.

            “What’s your major, Eren?” Sasha asked.

            “Political science. I wanna go to law school.”

            “Oh, nice.”

            “You?”

            “Undecided. Mikasa, too.”

            “Really? You’re undecided, Mikasa?”

            “I like a lot of things,” she shrugged. “Maybe economics. Maybe biochemistry.”

            “Those are completely different,” I said. She just shrugged again.

            “What about you, Armin?” Sasha asked.

            “Double major in history and literature,” he replied.  

            “Armin here’s a nerd,” I said with a playful nudge to his shoulder. We fell back into a comfortable conversation, about stupid things like professors and sports and Netflix and the latest party (thankfully evading the topic of my humiliation). And then, with her face still stoic and expressionless and beautiful somehow, Mikasa brought up the topic I’d been dreading but desiring at the same time.

            “Hey, Eren. Did you end up going to Levi’s after all?” she asked.

            “Yeah.” I leaned forward on the table and stared at my knotting fingers. “Yeah, I did.”

            “Levi? That super hot senior everyone talks about?” Sasha interrupted. “Although I’ll be honest—I’ve seen him, and he’s a bit short for my taste.”

            “That’s the one,” I mumbled.

            “Rumor has it his room is the cleanest one in a one hundred mile radius,” she chuckled.

            “I’d believe that. It was spotless when I saw it.”

            “You were in his room?” Mikasa asked with a raise of her eyebrows. I had let too much slip and the heat was now rising quickly to my cheeks.

            “You know him, Mikasa?” Sasha interrupted (thankfully). Her voice was muffled because she was still chewing.

            “He’s my cousin.” She put her silverware down and looked straight at me. “What did he do to you?”

            “N-nothing, he didn’t do anything! Geez, why are you making weird assumptions,” I grumbled. Mikasa narrowed her eyes. It was really scary when she did that. “But he hasn’t been responding to my text messages.”

            She looked away then, back to her plate.

            “Don’t expect him to respond for a while. Maybe a few weeks. If ever.”

            “What? Why?” I asked, more desperately than I had meant to.

            “Every once in a while he gets busy and just disappears for a few weeks. You won’t be able to get a hold of him.”

            If that was supposed to be her explanation, I wasn’t very satisfied by it. But I decided to drop the subject because I was starting to feel strange, talking about Levi so much with other people when I barely knew him. But I was still thinking about him, even when we started talking about other things. Of course I was still thinking about him. This was a burden I wouldn’t be able to escape. Not unless something very dramatic happened to finally convince me that there was no chance with him, or I had some sort of epiphany. Neither of which seemed very likely.

            Not to mention the fact that there seemed to be this cloud of mystery around his image. This intriguing darkness.

            “Mikasa and I are gonna go out for ice cream tonight after dinner,” Sasha said when Armin and I were about to leave. “Wanna come?”

            “Nope. Eren here has to study,” Armin said. I looked down at my sneakers and fiddled with my backpack, because ice cream sounded really nice.

            “For what?”

            “Econ,” I mumbled. “I totally bombed the last exam.”

            “Mikasa! Aren’t you a tutor?” Sasha said. Mikasa nodded wordlessly, but looked up at me. “Mikasa is a genius, seriously. You should have her tutor you.”

            “That’s okay, Armin—”

            “That’s a great idea!” Armin said. I glared at him, wondering what had happened to our previous conversation. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. She’s actually a tutor. She gets paid to do this. She even said she might major in econ.”

            “I’ll tutor you.” Her voice was very decisive.

            “N-no, it’s fine, I—”

            “Do you tutor in anything else?” Armin asked her.

            “Math, chemistry, biology, and writing.”

            “...Wow,” he breathed. “Eren, you need help with writing, too, don’t you?”

            “Armin!”

            “I can tutor you in writing.” Again in that decisive way that made me think, no getting out of this one.

            “I mean, I can help you, but she’s trained to do this,” Armin insisted. I wanted to strangle him. But I had to admit, I did need all the help I could get if I were to accomplish my goals—which I desperately wanted to do.

            “All right. Fine. I’ll let Mikasa tutor me.”

            “We’ll start tomorrow. Come to the library at four. Does that work?” she said.

            “Uh, sure.”

            Armin and I left, and I walked across campus with the perpetual hope that I would serendipitously run into Levi. Which, of course, I didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mikasa is my queen <3 
> 
> next chapter soon!


	6. I Should Start Locking My Door

**5**

**I Should Start Locking My Door**

            Even though I didn’t see Levi at all for three weeks, I found myself growing closer to Mikasa more quickly than anyone could imagine. At first, we would just do our tutoring sessions and have an occasional meal together, with Armin and sometimes Jean and the others. We were also taking classes in a few of the same departments and she was in much higher levels than me, even though we were in the same year. Though we were becoming fast friends, my jealousy of Mikasa was growing, too. I knew it was rude of me, and bitterness was never a flattering look on anybody, but I couldn’t help it. Not when she seemed so...perfect.

            I also ran into her at the gym on a relatively cold Saturday morning.

            See, I was a pretty fit and healthy person, and I could hold my own in the gym. But on this specific day, just as I was finishing up, I saw her walk in. She was in shorts and a hoodie, the muscles of her legs bulging, with headphones in her ears and her sleek black hair tied back into a short ponytail. She immediately looked, somehow, like she belonged. I didn’t say anything when I saw her. Staying true to my stalker habits, I made myself unnoticeable by sitting in the corner and pretending to stretch, and just watched her.

            Still in her hoodie, she went over to the single punching bag in the corner of the gym (our university had very nice athletic facilities). She circled around it a few times, punched at it, didn’t go too hard. And then, after a few minutes, she took the hoodie off. She was wearing nothing but a sports bra. Then she went at the punching bag as if it were her worst enemy, standing before her and just asking to get fucked up.

            I couldn’t stand it any longer. I jumped up and ran over to her, nearly sweating from how awed I was.

            “MIKASA! LOOK AT YOUR ABS!” I cried. She froze, looking over at me. Then she blinked, like her eyes were adjusting to the sight of me, and she glanced down at her own abs. She had a very defined six-pack, lean and dramatically outlined muscles. Everything I could ever dream of having.

            “Hi, Eren.”

            “You’re incredible,” I breathed. “I’ve never seen a girl with a body like yours.”

            “Oh, um...”

            “Sorry, that was a weird thing to say,” I said nervously. I was speaking so quickly that I could hardly understand myself. “You must come to the gym all the time.”

            “Yeah, sort of.”

            “Can I...um...can I feel?”

            “Feel?”

            “Your muscles. Can I?”

            She lifted her arms up, a gesture that I took to mean that I was free to touch. I took a deep breath and put my hands against her stomach, and her muscles really were as hard as metal.

            “ _Whoa.”_ I withdrew my hands, unable to comprehend how she could be so toned and strong. And then, as I looked down at my own scrawniness (not too scrawny, but scrawny nonetheless), I couldn’t help it. “You have to train me! I WANT MUSCLES LIKE THAT!”

            “What? Like, fitness training?”

            “Yes! Please? Ugh, you must think I’m so annoying, asking you to do all this shit for me—”

            “That’s okay. I’d be happy to train you. I come to the gym all the time anyway.”

            “Really? You mean it?!”

            “Sure.”

            So then we started studying together _and_ working out together—and I discovered rather quickly that Mikasa was a slave-driver in both respects—and we found ourselves growing closer and closer as the hope of seeing Levi again grew further and further. We started going to the gym together. It got to the point that we spent almost every second together—with Armin, too, though he hated the gym and avoided working out as much as possible. It was obvious to everyone else, as well, because I could sense the jealousy and animosity emanating from Jean whenever he was around us. I liked Mikasa a lot. But, as always, I was immensely jealous of her. She was perfect. Beautiful, smart, fit. I figured there must have been some fatal flaw in her, some really dark secret since perfect people like that can’t exist, but I didn’t want to find out what it was.

            In those three weeks before I saw Levi again, in between studying and working out and deciding if I should join a club or get a job or something, I visited his apartment twice—again with the excuse of returning his book. I didn’t bother texting him beforehand because I figured he wouldn’t respond based on what Mikasa had told me, and even if he did, I wasn’t about to take no for an answer. Not when I was suffering so much, drowning in my own thirst. The first time was the Friday after I had gone over—the day after my first tutoring session with Mikasa—and he had given me that legendary hand-job. I had dressed more warmly this time and was wrapped up in a scarf and jacket, clutching his book to my chest when I walked up to his door. But as I lifted my fist to tap on it, I heard noises from the other side of the door. I paused and, even though I knew I shouldn’t have, I held my breath so that I could listen.

            I knew after only a few moments that there were people having sex in Levi’s apartment. I wasn’t sure whom at first, but I knew that it was happening. My face growing hot and my heart beating faster, I listened more closely. It sounded like a guy and a girl. They must have been doing it on the couch, otherwise I wouldn’t have heard it so clearly. And then, after a few moments, I heard a voice screaming Levi’s name.

            I stumbled when I turned away and moved down the stairs. I wasn’t looking where I was going and, before I realized it, I had bumped into somebody. His grand, strong physique pushed me back, and I nearly fell down the stairs. But a pair of hands grasped me by the arms and held me steady. I glanced up and saw Erwin Smith, looking down at me with a soft smile.

            “...Eren, right?” he said. “Sorry. I should’ve looked where I was going.”

            “N-no!” I cried, more loudly than I meant to. I straightened up and shook my head. “Totally my fault, sorry, wasn’t looking, um—”

            “What’re you doing here?”

            “Nothing, nothing at all,” I stuttered. What was I supposed to say to this guy, with his sideburns and his perfect jaw-line and his overwhelming handsomeness?

            “If you say so,” he shrugged. I appreciated that he wasn’t pressing me. And then, oddly enough, his friendly demeanor disappeared and the smile slid off his face. He glanced up the stairs. “Sorry I can’t stay to talk. I have to go.”

            I assumed he was going to see Levi, his supposed best friend, but I didn’t say anything. He walked past me up the stairs, and I watched him for a little bit (his ass was nice, too), and then I nearly sprinted down the stairs and straight to Armin’s room. Wondering what Erwin had seemed so serious about, why he was going to see Levi, what their relationship was even like. They seemed so different. And, of course, wondering who had been having sex with Levi and feeling terribly, unnecessarily downtrodden.

             After I ran into Erwin on the stairs, I went to Armin’s room, and Mikasa was already there, typing away on her laptop. They asked me why I was so out of breath and why it looked like someone had smeared red paint all over my face. I explained to them what had happened.

            “You heard...them having sex?” Armin blinked. He was maybe the most innocent eighteen year-old I’d ever met. I nodded, burying my face in his pillow. “Well how do you know it was him?”

            “I heard her saying his name,” I groaned.

            “Heard who?”

            I shrugged wordlessly.

            “You haven’t heard the stories?” Mikasa suddenly said. Armin and I both looked at her. She was sitting on the floor leaning back against the wall, tapping her pen on the floor in the same way that Levi had done when I’d been in his room.

            “Stories about what?” I asked.

            “Rumors, I suppose,” she sighed, “but it’s common knowledge that Levi has slept with perhaps every student in the school.”

            “ _Whaaat?”_ Armin and I cried.

            “He has a lot of sex, and he’s notorious for it.”

            I felt like an idiot, but I didn’t say anything. I had told Armin about what had happened with Levi (when we’d been alone in his room), but I hadn’t told Mikasa. And now I definitely wasn’t going to. Armin glanced at me with what I assumed to be a sympathetic expression. I narrowed my eyes at him, just daring him to say something. He looked away.

            So maybe Levi wasn’t responding to my texts because he was playing around with someone else. (Is that what Mikasa meant when she said he would be busy?) Maybe I wasn’t sexy enough. Maybe I was boring. Maybe it turned out he didn’t have interest in me after all.

            _Is my dick too small?_

_Maybe I should’ve put some gel in my hair._

_Maybe I’m annoying?_

_He is a senior...and I’m only a first-year..._

I didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so I just turned my back to them and, pouting, read through his notes in the book he had let me borrow.

            The second time I went to his apartment was a few days later. It was a little different that time. I actually hoped that he wasn’t there because I had come to the conclusion, after hearing Mikasa’s story and having it confirmed by a few other people (along with the fact that he hadn’t been responding to me), that I shouldn’t get myself in too deep with Levi. In fact, I should probably just have nothing to do with him anymore. Sure, he was really sexy and since meeting him I had thought of nothing but fucking him so hard that everyone in the building knew my name, but this was college, after all. I was bound to find someone else to hook up with, right?

            _Not anyone like him..._

That’s why I was relieved when he wasn’t home. I knocked on the door and someone I didn’t recognize answered. Messy brownish-red hair tied up in a ponytail, glasses, a radiant (and slightly eccentric) smile.

            “Hi. Is Levi here?” I asked, really hoping that he wasn’t.

            “Nope, ya missed him. Want me to leave a message?”

            His roommate’s name was Hanji, and they were a senior like him. I say ‘they’ because, as Hanji explained to me when introducing themself, they didn’t identify with the gender binary and preferred the pronouns ‘they/them,’ though they were assigned female at birth. After I introduced myself and told them that I was there to return a book—and that was all—Hanji gave me a confused look.

            “Levi let you borrow a book?” they asked. I nodded, holding it out.

            “I had an exam and he told me I could use it to study. Could you just give it back to him when you get the chance, or put it in his room, or something?”

            “Nobody’s allowed in his and Mike’s room,” Hanji chuckled. “Except for you, I guess.”

            I blinked, not sure what to say. And, without warning, Hanji stepped forward and grabbed a strand of my hair. I cringed at the unexpected touch, and they brought their face an inch away from mine and looked me straight in the eyes.

            “There’s something very unique about you,” they murmured.

            “Me? What? N-no, I’m completely average...probably below average, actually.”

            They narrowed their eyes, and started looking at me from different angles. Like I was something to be experimented on. Then Hanji whisked the book from my hands and stepped away with a shrug. They smiled at me, a really genuine smile that I felt in my core.

            “How do you know Levi? You friends?”

            “We’re not really friends,” I admitted. “I...I threw up on his shoes at a party, and—”

            “ _Oh,_ you’re that one!” they laughed. As they did, I glanced past their shoulder into the room. There was a strange smell emanating from inside, weird new age music playing, and everything was messy and things were haphazardly thrown around. Essentially the complete opposite of the way it had been when I had come to give the CD to Levi. “Levi mentioned you, and Petra warned me about how goddamn cute you are.”

            “R-really?”

            “Just look at you,” Hanji whispered. They put their hands on their hips and looked at me in that way again. “You’d be a perfect test subject.”

            “A perfect _what_?”

            “Forget I said anything!” they laughed. “I’ll tell Levi you stopped by.”

            It was a strange encounter, actually. And as strange as they seemed, I couldn’t help but like Hanji. Though it seemed weird that they were one of Levi’s roommates. Then again, I knew little to nothing about Levi, as much as I hated to admit that.

            I only realized a few minutes after I’d left that Hanji’s voice was the one I’d heard screaming Levi’s name. 

* * *

 

            It was Tuesday afternoon. I was exhausted and sweating, even though it was chilly out (it was supposed to snow next week), because I had just finished working out with Mikasa. A three-mile run, then work with the machines. And Mikasa was ruthless. My entire body ached as I hobbled my way from the gym back to my dorm room, and I decided to just order in that day instead of going to a dining hall. I was feeling anti-social and upset and angsty, the way I do sometimes, and I just wanted to eat by myself in my room and wallow in my aching body and watch some Netflix, hoping that Jean would come home late or spend the night at Marco’s. I told Mikasa and Armin to go to dinner without me. I got back to my room, stripped, and went straight to the shower. Where, as the hot water ran across my skin, my thoughts inevitably turned to Levi. Whom I hadn’t heard from in over three weeks and hadn’t seen at all. I was afraid that I was beginning to forget the scent of him, which made me feel a little bit creepy, since I’d only really talked to him twice.

            _Something about him just makes me crazy, I guess._

As I walked down the hall from the communal bathroom back to my room at the end, already dialing the number for the pizza place, I heard voices coming from behind my door. I stopped in front of it, startled and panicking. Somebody had gotten into my room. It sounded like a few different voices...all voices that I recognized, I realized after a few moments. Nearly trembling, I opened the door.

            “It’s fucking filthy in here.”

            I stood, awe-struck in my doorway with nothing but a towel on, as Erwin, Hanji, and Levi paced in my room. Erwin was at the windowsill, calmly staring out at the campus. Hanji was sifting through the clothes in my closet. And Levi was at my desk, looking through the few books and games that I had there, his arms crossed. It was the first time, I realized, that I’d seen him wearing a real outfit. Tight jeans, black boots that fit over them and ran up to the middle of his calf, a black t-shirt with a long red cardigan over it and a matching red checkered scarf. When I opened the door they all looked at me, and I must have looked like a complete idiot.

            “Ah! You’re done!” Hanji cried. “About time, we’ve been here long enough. Glad we didn’t get the wrong room.”

            “Wait...what?” I gawked.

            “Had a good workout?” Erwin asked. As if this situation were completely normal.

            “Uh, yeah, but—”

            “How often do you clean this room, brat?” Levi scoffed. His voice was refreshing as it washed over me, like I had been dragging myself through a desert and was finally getting a drop of water on my tongue. Even though his tone was filled with disdain and contempt. Looking at him like this was like seeing him for the first time. “It’s disgusting.”

            “Er, I don’t know,” I said.

            “Oh, stop picking on him,” Hanji sighed. “It’s _his_ room anyway.”

            “Well as long as I’m in here, I’ll say what I damn well please,” Levi replied. And I couldn’t help but remember that I had most likely heard the two of them having sex through the door of their apartment.

            “What are you all doing here?” I finally managed. They looked at me, and Erwin was the first to smile.

            “I like you, Eren Jaeger,” he said. “I want you to have dinner with us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so far I've really really really enjoyed writing this, and I hope y'all like reading it <3 next chapter soon!


	7. I Just Want Some Pizza

**6**

**I Just Want Some Pizza**

 

            “You’ve been waiting in my room so you could ask me to _dinner_?” I cried. “Why?! And how did you even know where my room is?”

            “You texted it to me,” Levi answered, holding up his phone. I remembered that about a week ago, I had, in fact, texted him my room number in case he wanted to come by to grab the book. “And no, we didn’t actually come here to ask you for dinner.”

            “Oh. Then—?”

            “I came to get my book back.” Levi clicked his tongue and looked away, back at the bookshelf. “But it doesn’t seem to be here.”

            “...You came to get your book?” I repeated. Now more confused than before. “But I gave it to Hanji last week.”

            Levi furrowed his brow and looked over at Hanji, who was standing with pursed lips and their hands behind their back. My entire body felt hot, my mind clouded.

            “What did you do, shitty glasses?” Levi hissed.

            “Huh? You gave _me_ the book?” Hanji cried dramatically. “I must have forgotten! Silly me!”

            “Just a misunderstanding,” Erwin interjected. He stepped forward, putting one arm around Hanji and one arm around Levi, who nearly cringed at his touch. I was still standing, silent and dumbfounded (and in a towel), in the doorway. “But it’s fine. We’re here now. Come to dinner with us, Eren.”

            “Oh, uh, no thanks, I—”

            “I will _not_ take no for an answer.” Erwin started walking for the door, and put his hand on my shoulder. I had forgotten how tall he was and found myself looking up at him, intimidated. This guy probably threw great house parties. “Get dressed and let’s go. We’ll be downstairs waiting.”

            “They’re serving ravioli at the cafeteria,” Hanji winked, following Erwin past me and out the door. I sighed, realizing that my quiet night alone with pizza and Netflix was not destined to be. But, as I looked up and caught Levi’s eye, I suddenly felt a swelling in my chest. A voice in my head saying that this could be my second chance—or at least, if not a second chance, a final opportunity to clear things up. He had ignored me for three weeks, and was showing up now? What the hell was that even supposed to mean? When I looked at him, I could still feel his fingers wrapped around my cock and his voice against my neck. I wanted to dispel the hope that it could happen again.

            He sighed and moved to follow Erwin and Hanji out the door. But as he was about to move past me, his arm so close it nearly brushed mine, I moved like an animal. Purely off instinct. I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back into the room, closing the door behind me. He didn’t look surprised, didn’t look irritated, didn’t look like he was feeling anything at all. He almost looked like he had been expecting it, and didn’t resist.

            “What are you doing?” he asked smoothly. He easily wrenched his arm from my grasp and stuck his hands in his pockets.

            “I want to talk to you.”

            “Talk to me at dinner. Erwin and Hanji are waiting.”

            “Tell them you had to go to the bathroom or something,” I insisted. I wondered if he could feel the tension in the air between us. Or if his skin was as tingly and hot as mine was. Or if the sound of my voice was making him as jittery as the sound of his voice was making me.

            “All right, I’ll humor you, brat. What do you want?”

            “I...” I began, but my voice died. I didn’t know what I wanted, actually. Or at least, I didn’t know how to verbalize it. “Well...”

            “Spit it out. You’re wasting my time.”

            “I wanna know what your problem is,” I finally blurted. I realized, too late, that I was letting my temper escape. Looking at his smug, ridiculously sexy expression set it on fire. “You invite me to your apartment, drive me _crazy_ , and then disappear from the face of the fucking earth for three weeks? And _then_ you show up in my room out of fucking _nowhere_?”

            He smirked, but there was no stopping me now.

            “I don’t know anything about you, but you’re pissing me off,” I seethed. “Why are you leading me on? You knew from the second you met me what _I_ wanted, so don’t ask me that. Just either leave me alone, let me move on, or...”

            “Or what?” Levi finished. He was staring straight at me, completely unfazed by my outburst. I was so furious now, so worked up that my entire body heaved with my breaths. My fists were clenched, my jaw tight.

            I didn’t know how to finish. So I didn’t. I just grabbed his face, pushed him back against my closed door, and kissed him using every ounce of energy inside me. Because there was really no other option for me. This dryness on my tongue, on my lips, in my head. There was only one way to cure it. I kissed him like my life depended on it, feeling the warm skin of his cheeks against my palms and shutting my eyes tightly. I closed them because I didn’t want to see the expression on his face. All I knew was that he wasn’t fighting back, wasn’t resisting, so I didn’t need to know the kind of face he was making.

            As the taste of him filled me, I opened my mouth more widely and pushed my tongue between his parted lips. He welcomed it, and I could suddenly feel his tongue there, too. Intertwining with mine. I pushed my chest against his and put my knee between his legs, as he put his hands on the base of my neck. I had lost my awareness of everything. I wasn’t sure how I had gotten to this point, what had happened the second before I had kissed him, what this meant or why it was happening. I didn’t care, either. All I knew was that I was touching him, and he was touching me, and I never wanted it to end.

            _Touch me._

My open lips hovered above his and I breathed into him, while he breathed into me. I could feel his chest rising and falling with his sighs as I pressed mine against it, and I felt the bulge of his penis against my knee. My forehead fell against his, I moved my fingers up until they became entangled in his hair and my elbows rested on his shoulders, and then I felt his thumb reach up and touch my lower lip. I let my face become slack and reached my tongue out until it touched the tip of his finger. He pulled my lip down with his thumb, and his other thumb moved back and forth against my jaw-line. Then I gave a low breath that sounded more like a growl, a sound I didn’t know myself capable of making, and kissed him again—I moved my knee up against him, and he groaned against my mouth.

            One moment I was in bliss, wrapped up in him, moving my hand down to the edge of his pants. The next moment he was pushing me back and wiping his lips on the back of his sleeve.

            “Get dressed already. Erwin and Hanji are waiting,” he said. I stood, not sure how to react, as he opened the door and turned to walk out.

            “You never answered my question,” I finally said once I’d found my voice. “What is your problem?”

            Levi just stared at me coldly for a few moments and it made my skin icy. Like a draft had blown in against my bare torso. I saw his gaze moving along the limbs of my body and felt exposed. But at the same time, I felt that I wanted this gaze on me forever.

            “Damn cute,” he mumbled. I wasn’t sure that I’d heard him correctly, if maybe he had said something insulting or rude. But before I could say anything else, he was walking down the hall. He called behind him, “Hurry up. I’m starving.”

            _You can avoid me all you want._

_But you can’t deny that you want me._

I got dressed and went down to have dinner with Erwin, Hanji, and Levi. Though, why three seniors wanted to have dinner with a first-year is still beyond me.

            “He’d make a great testing subject. Don’t you think?” Hanji asked, sitting across from me in the cafeteria. Levi sat next to them, and Erwin sat next to me. Without a single change in his expression, Levi blinked at them.

            “Testing subject?” I asked.

            “Hanji likes to do experiments,” Erwin replied.

            “Biochemistry major, physics minor,” Hanji announced proudly. “Applying to graduate schools for a Ph.D. Going to _save the world with science!”_

“Shitty glasses has an obsession with experimenting on livestock like you,” Levi said.

            “Livestock?”

            “Do you even know how to have an actual conversation?” he sighed. “All you do is repeat what people say like a fucking parrot.”

            “Stop being rude, Levi. What’s your major, Eren?” Erwin interrupted. And, just like that, Levi threw a glare at Erwin but shut his mouth anyway. I thought back to what Armin had said, about Levi and Erwin being best friends despite their differences.

            “Poli sci.”

            “The brat wants to be a prosecutor,” Levi continued. At that, Erwin raised his coiffed, unreal eyebrows and leaned back in his seat.

            “It’s a small world. I’m going to law school next year—hopefully.”

            “Really? You are?”

            “I want to be a prosecutor, too.”

            I felt my inner dork coming alive as my skin grew hot. Perhaps this person shared a passion with me—this smart, handsome, nice, really intimidating person. We fell into an emphatic conversation during which I picked his brain, though that’s probably not what he’d been expecting from this dinner. But if I was going to get advice from anybody about going to law school, this was the guy I wanted it from. While we talked, I of course couldn’t help but sneak glances at Levi. He and Hanji were speaking in hushed tones, their heads very close together as they ate. But once, when I looked over, he was staring straight back at me, and the look of his eyes made me mute and deaf and completely senseless for a few moments. But after those moments he turned back to Hanji and I wanted so badly to be a wall between them. I wanted to jump across the table and kiss him again.

            I didn’t sleep at all that night. I had exchanged information with Erwin and Hanji and was nervous and excited and apprehensive about developing a relationship with them, for a few different reasons. What did they want to do with a stupid kid like me? Would I get annoying? Worrying was stupid, I knew, but I couldn’t help it. I also couldn’t stop thinking about Levi. About the fact that he had let me kiss him, hadn’t resisted my advances, but hadn’t let me get very far, either...hadn’t answered any of my questions.

            _What is up with him?_

* * *

 

“Guys, I’m bored, let’s go out and do something.”

            “You’re not bored, Eren, you’re just horny.”

            “Shut up, Armin.”

            It was seven o’clock on Friday night. I was on the floor of my room, lying on my back with my 3DS in hand. I had been grinding for at least an hour now trying to find a shiny and was starting to lose my mind. Mikasa was sitting on my bed with her back against the wall, legs stretched out and holding a book. Armin was sprawled over her lap on his stomach, reading his own book. I hadn’t even bothered asking what they were reading because half of the time I couldn’t understand what they were saying anyway. It seemed like everything they read, even if it was Dr. Seuss, had some sort of enlightening metaphysical epiphany.

            “What do you wanna do?” Mikasa asked, humoring me the way she always did.

            “I don’t know. Go out for dinner.”

            “Can’t we just order in tonight?” Armin sighed, hugging Mikasa’s legs slightly. “I’m tired. It’s been a stressful week.”

            “Yeah, because you’re taking an extra class.”  

            “You and Mikasa can go out if you want, but I don’t want to,” he said. His voice did sound exhausted and a bit apologetic. I sighed and turned onto my side, facing them. He knew damn well that we wouldn’t leave him by himself on a Friday night.

            “Whatever...” I just looked at them, watched as their eyes scanned the pages of their books.

            “Are you feeling okay?” Mikasa asked. She didn’t look up from her book.

            “Yeah. I’m fine. Just restless.”

            “We could go for a run if you want.”

            “Please no,” Armin sighed. He closed his book and put it face down on the bed, letting his cheek fall onto Mikasa’s leg. “Ugh, sorry I’m such a bum. I just really want to take it easy right now.”

            Mikasa started playing with his hair, giving me a shrug. A little, it is what it is, shrug. I tried not to make my irritation obvious because I didn’t want to make Armin feel bad, but my restlessness was steadily turning to an indiscernible apprehension. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was that was irritating me, why I couldn’t stay still, why I felt that there was something I needed to be doing but wasn’t. I grabbed my phone and rolled onto my back while Mikasa braided Armin’s hair. I scrolled through pictures on my phone and checked my text messages—which, as always, led to me rereading each and over message Levi and I had ever exchanged. Not many, if I was being frank with myself, but in my crazed state of mind I was able to find wonders in each and every single letter.

            I imagined him lying on his couch, cigarette between his lips and his hair wet, holding up his phone and typing text messages to me. It made me strangely happy, at peace, to imagine him that way. Taking even a second out of his day to think about me. I scrolled up and realized that we really hadn’t talked much at all. A few times about the Arctic Monkeys CD, his book...the many unanswered messages I sent him in those three weeks that I hadn’t heard from him.

            “Hey, Eren,” Armin called.

            “Hm?” I glanced over slowly, distracted. He and Mikasa were both staring at me. His hair had been brushed smooth by her fingers and was embellished with a braid that fell over his eyes. There was a smirk on his face, and a cloud on hers.

            “You should just text him already.”

            “God no.”

            “Why not?” Armin insisted, his voice becoming higher in pitch. “You’ve been all love-sick like that forever. You should stop being so indecisive and just text him. You don’t have anything to lose.”

            “Easy for you to say!” I cried, throwing my hands into the air. “What would I even say to him?”

            “I don’t know. Ask him out for coffee or something,” Armin said.

            “He doesn’t drink coffee. Only tea,” Mikasa interjected. She had gone back to reading her book, but I knew she was paying attention.

            “Okay, tea, whatever. They have tea at Starbucks, right?”

            “You mean, like, ask him out?”

            “That’s what you _want_ to do, isn’t it?” Armin took off his glasses and started to clean them. “What was it you said? Oh yeah. You want to ‘get to know him better.’” I could see the snicker hanging on the edges of his lips.

            “Oh, just shut up,” I grumbled. My restlessness was getting worse. Armin’s words were putting weird images and unrealistic thoughts into my head. Sitting in a coffee shop with Levi, talking about stupid things like school gossip and getting a job and yummy restaurants in the city. Going back to his apartment and drinking tea. I sat up and grasped my phone more tightly, shutting my eyes to expel it all. “I don’t know. It’s just...”

            “Here. Give me your phone.” Mikasa held her hand out, looking straight at me.

            “What? Like hell I will!”

            “If you’re too scared to do it, I’ll do it for you. Since I know you want to.” She wiggled her fingers and raised her eyebrows. “Not that I think it’s a good idea, but if it’s what you want, I’ll text Levi for you.”

            “No, Mikasa! Stop!”

            “Would you rather I do it from my phone?”

            “ _No!”_

She gave me a one-sided smirk, eerily like Levi’s, while Armin giggled incessantly in her lap. Suddenly I heard a knock on the door, and peered over my shoulder. I had propped the door open since I knew most of the people on my floor, and when I glanced back, I saw Ymir and Krista (they lived down the hall, and were some of the first people I’d met). Ymir leaned on the doorframe, her arms crossed, while Krista stood beside her with that sugar-sweet smile.

            “Sup,” Ymir greeted.

            “Hey, guys,” I said without getting up.

            “Whatcha doin?”

            “Being bored. Come on in and join the party.”

            They stepped into the room. Krista sat down beside me on the ground and leaned against Ymir’s leg.

            “Krista and I were gonna watch a movie. Care to join?”

            “Which movie?” I asked. I didn’t actually care which one it was; I would watch anything to distract myself at this point.

            “I don’t know, probably a stupid Will Ferrell one.”

            “Did someone say Will Ferrell?!” Another head suddenly popped into the door—another one of my floormates, Connie. He had a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “Can I watch?”

            “I can make us cookies,” Krista offered.

            “Chocolate chip?” Armin gasped.

            “Sure, I can make chocolate chip.”

            “You’re an angel!”

            “Isn’t she though?” Ymir grinned widely, leaning down and planting a giant, loud kiss on Krista’s head. It had been obvious after the first few weeks that they weren’t just roommates. “Wish I didn’t have to share her with all you greedy assholes.”

            “We can watch in here, since I have the biggest room. Jean’s spending the night at Marco’s, so he won’t be in all night,” I said as I stood up. I stretched my arms up and felt my muscles expanding, through my shoulders and up to my fingertips. Krista stood up and prepared to make the cookies in the community kitchen, while Connie made himself comfortable on Jean’s bed. As everything moved around me, I instinctively glanced at my phone, quelling the small hope nestling inside of me that there might— _might_ —be a message from Levi. It had only been a few days since we’d had dinner...since I’d kissed him...but it felt like an eternity.

            Mikasa must have noticed my crestfallen expression.

            “Hey, Ymir,” she called. “Hand me Eren’s phone, would you? I don’t wanna get up.”

            “Sure thing.”

            “ _Hey, wha—?”_

Before I could even finish my protest, Ymir had forcefully whisked my phone from my hand and tossed it across the room, where Mikasa caught it without a blink.

            “Give it back!” I cried. As if my mood could worsen. Mikasa completely ignored me as I stormed over to her and reached for my phone. She easily moved it out of my grasp each time I made a move for it. Left, right, up, down; I just couldn’t get my hands on it, and it was making me livid. Of course she moved through my pass-code without a moment’s hesitation (it was my mom’s name) and went straight to text messages.

            “Please, Mikasa, I’m serious—”

            “There.” She finally sat still, letting me wrench the phone from her fingers. I was too afraid to look at what she’d sent. “You’re being a coward, so I had to do it for you. I know him better than you do anyway. I know how he’ll react.”

            “That doesn’t give you the right to...”

            My voice trailed off as my phone vibrated. I looked at her stone-cold expression.

            “Check it. Go on,” she said.

            So I checked it.

            And the next day I went on a coffee-date with Levi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THINGS ARE HAPPENING
> 
> hope you're enjoying <3 
> 
> xoxo


	8. I Really Like the Passenger Seat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow that took me forever sorry
> 
> OH one thing I forgot to mention earlier. I changed some things, some pretty important changes, in the very first chapter. So if you haven't yet, go check it out yayyyy
> 
> I really, really, really liked writing this chapter
> 
> And I hope you enjoy reading it lovely people <3

7

I Really Like the Passenger Seat

 

            _What am I doing...?_

I stuck my hands into my coat pockets as I walked, watching the leaves crushed beneath my boots. Brown, orange, yellow hues mixing with the wet black stones of the asphalt. The day was still recovering from a bout of rain the night before that left the sky painted with every shade of grey. It was terribly chilly, and the dull gloominess of the atmosphere wasn’t helpful for my mood. The anxiety had spread from my stomach through my chest and up to my cheeks, flushed and hot even in the autumn breeze and after-rain chill. I had my headphones in, to drown out the world around me for a little bit, as I walked from my dorm to the slightly out-of-the-way coffee shop Levi had suggested. Though it hadn’t really been a suggestion. More of a demand. He had said, from the get-go, no Starbucks—their tea was so subpar. Or so he claimed. The shop he had in mind was about a 20 minute walk and was a little bit hard to find because it was in an alley with nothing else but a little family-owned salon.

            I didn’t mind the walk. I needed the time to gather my thoughts and make sure my foot was as far from my mouth as possible. This was my chance to fix things, to do it right.

            _It’s his fault, anyway. He’s the one who touched my dick first._

I still couldn’t get the taste of him out of my mouth. Whenever I remembered kissing him, talking to him, breathing with him, studying with him—doing anything with him—I felt a lump in my throat and a tremble below my belly button. This was a middle-school crush amplified by about one million.

            These were the thoughts racing through my head as I walked along the streets of the college town, passing by the silent people as they ran their errands. Their lips were moving but I didn’t hear anything. Only the guitar riffs and drum solos from my ear-buds. I checked my phone every few moments, to make sure he hadn’t texted to (inevitably?) bail. But there was no such message. Mikasa and Armin were having a conversation in the group text about lunch plans, of which I would not be a part. I thrust my phone back into my pocket and concentrated on the music and the monotonous throb of my thoughts.

            When I finally managed to find the shop, I hesitated at the door. I considered, for a moment, being the one to bail on him—I glanced up at the clouds. It looked like more rain soon. I hadn’t brought my umbrella.

            I went inside and stood at the doorstep for a second. There was a little jingle from the old-fashioned bell on the door, and as I took out my headphones, the guy at the register said hello. I gave an absentminded nod. My eyes scanned the small, dark, lamp-lit café. It was a nice ambience, with literary quotes and dramatic landscapes on the walls. There was even a 1920s typewriter plastered onto the wall. The seats were old, ratty-looking armchairs (that were probably new but looked ratty as part of the aesthetic).

            “Oi. Over here.”

            I whirled around much too fast to the corner, where that spine-chilling voice had come from. Levi was sitting in the armchair, his arms crossed and leaning back. He had a notebook in his lap, a fountain pen in his fingers, his glasses sliding down his nose. He was wearing a black beanie today, ripped jeans and boots, a red sweater that fit him way too well. His left sleeve was rolled up, revealing his gorgeous rose tattoo-sleeve. And he wasn’t wearing a scarf so I could see the fountain pen tattoo, as well. Without much of a greeting other than an incoherent mumble, I walked over and sat down at the armchair opposite him. There was a little table in between us, with a mug of half-finished tea that was still steaming.

            “Hey,” I finally managed. Each time I saw him it was a new wave of awe. Swept away by the mere sight of him, implanting itself into the darkness behind my eyes until I could see nothing but his fine features, his dark hair, his pale skin. “How long have you been here?”

            “About an hour.”

            “Oh...” I instinctively checked my watch. The hour hand was just reaching the one, which meant I was on time.

            “Aren’t you going to get anything to drink?” he asked. I blinked, suddenly remembering that we were in a coffee shop.

            “Sure, yeah. I’ll be right back.” I stood up and the armchair made an excessively loud noise and I could feel everyone looking at me. Especially Levi. He looked up at me, one hand still grasping his notebook and the other reaching out to grab his mug. The same way as before—grabbing it from the top. I suddenly felt unbelievably hot (was this place heated?). I took off my jacket, pulling my arms through the sleeves. As I went through the motions, I was all-too-aware of his eyes on me, watching my every move.

            I pretended not to notice.

            I ordered one of those really sugary coffees because I’ve never been good with dark, heavy drinks, and sat back down at the table. Levi had been writing, but glanced up, staring at me over the rims of his glasses, as I took my seat. In the tense silence that followed, he took off his glasses and put them in a bag he had sitting beside him on the seat, closed his notebook, and put it flat on the table. I watched silently.

            “Really gloomy out, huh?” I blurted. He leaned back and switched his legs, crossing over the other one. He glanced at the window.

            “I like the rain, actually,” he said. “I feel like it makes things clean again.”

            “But it can’t make _everything_ clean. The world can’t ever be completely clean.”

            He raised his eyebrows and sipped his tea, like a silent agreement. If not an agreement, then an acknowledgement that I had at least said it.

            “What were you writing?” I asked, pointing to the notebook.

            “Why do you ask?”

            “Just curious,” I replied with my most genuine smile. “I don’t mean to pry or anything. But I know you mentioned you were a journalism major, and I wondered if it was a new article for the school paper or something.”

            “No,” he said, looking back out the window. He seemed relaxed somehow. As if he were meant to be here, even sitting across from this bumbling idiot of a first-year who was very clearly infatuated with him. There was no point in trying to hide how blindly attracted to him I was.

            He didn’t say anything else, so I let the subject drop. I drank my coffee, and he sipped his tea, and I listened to the sound of his breathing and the soft piano music that was playing. Not the stereotypical John Mayer-esque coffee shop music. I liked it.

            “So what’d you think of the Arctic Monkeys CD?” I asked after a few moments.

            “Not bad. I can get it back to you whenever you need.”

            “Nah, that’s okay. You can keep it.” The more I talked, the more comfortable I was getting, so I decided to just keep going. Since my brain seemed to be functioning relatively normally for the moment. “I’m glad you liked it. They’re actually gonna be in the city for a concert soon, and I was thinking about getting tickets.”

            “Yeah? Let me know if you find cheap ones.”

            “Will do. Hey, can I ask you something?”

            “I suppose I can’t stop you.”

            “Why did you agree to come here with me?”

            He froze, his eyes directed toward the ceiling, as the question floated around in the dense air. Then, finally, he settled back down into the chair and looked straight at me.

            “Let’s see. Because you asked me, and I had no reason to say no. Because I like this coffee shop, and I didn’t have plans, and you’re cute. Because you’re really eager and you want to fuck me, and I don’t think I would mind that much if you did—not to say that we will. But you’d probably be a good fuck, actually. Your dick’s pretty nice. And you’re a damn good kisser. And you’re really fucking stupid, and it’s kind of charming.”

            I could tell he was teasing me at this point, but my entire body was swooning anyway.

            “You really say what you think, don’t you?” I smiled.

            “You asked. I answered.”   

            He met my eyes when I smiled, but the lump in my throat disappeared. I felt tension melting away, felt myself falling into place sitting across from him, here in this obscure coffee shop in this college town. Which was strange—knowing myself, I would have assumed that I’d be jittery, hot-headed, nervous, saying stupid things. But something about his gaze was calming my nerves, I think. Something about the way he drank his tea. I decided that, since this might be the most comfortable I would ever be around him, I was going to say what was really on my mind.

            “Listen. Um, can we...” I paused, trying to find the right words. He looked at me very attentively. That was something else nice about him. Whenever you talked, he would listen as if you were the only person in the world. “Can we, I don’t know, start over?”

            “Start over?”

            “Yeah. I feel like we started off on the wrong foot—I don’t know. I just feel weird about everything,” I sighed. “Can we start over? Do this, like, normally?”

            “Sorry, but you can’t just take back the fact that you vomited on my Docs,” he smirked.

            “Yeah? Well you can’t take back the fact that you nearly sent me to the hospital!” I retorted. That made him smile more widely, which in turn made me smile.

            “But you wanna take back the hand-job and the kiss,” he said. “Is that what you mean?”

            I hadn’t been expecting him to say it so...bluntly. And now I didn’t know how to answer.

            “I mean—no, not necessarily. I just mean that...well...”

            Ah, there it was. The blankness that was usually so prevalent in my brain.   

            “Don’t get all worked up. I know what you mean,” he said. I let out the breath I’d been holding and took a big sip of my drink.

            The silence that followed this time was comfortable. Like something heavy, a wall or an elephant or a ghost, that had been removed from between us. I was seeing so clearly now. I didn’t try to hide anything. I watched him drink his tea unflinchingly, holding my own mug but not bothering to drink. I watched his eyes flitting across the café, occasionally falling upon my face as I gazed at him like a puppy. We didn’t need to say anything to be comfortable, and I liked that. Suddenly, his phone buzzed. He picked it up, blinked at the screen with narrowed eyes, and then shoved it into his bag. With a tension that I hadn’t seen before.

            “This place is starting to make me crazy,” he said, standing up without warning.

            “What?”

            “Let’s leave.”

            He finished his tea with one last gulp, put his bag over his shoulder, and began moving toward the door.

            “Leave? And go where?”

            “Do you have anywhere to be?”

            “Well, no.”

            “You don’t mind a drive?”

            “A drive? Like, a car drive?”

            “No, an alpaca drive.”

            “I mean, sure, but—”

            “Then let’s go.”

            He grabbed my arm and pulled me up from the chair, barely giving me time to grab my phone and wallet—I had almost forgotten how strong he was. Much stronger than he looked. He had gotten up in such a hurry, was moving with such intense apprehension, that everybody turned to look at us. Flushing, I let him drag me out of the shop, smiling at the cashier and wishing that I’d had time to finish my coffee because it had actually been pretty good.

            I was trying to put on my jacket as we (I) stumbled onto the sidewalk, hit once more with the deceiving cold. He walked really fast for someone with such short legs—which I would never in a million years say to his face—and I was nearly jogging to keep up. But once I’d found my footing I managed to walk beside him, zipping up my coat. He had his hands in his pockets, was getting fidgety and looking around.

            “You okay?”

            “I need a cigarette.”

            “Then have a cigarette.”

            “I left them in the goddamn car.”

            “Oh.”

            I figured then that he was taking me to his car, wherever it was. What was absurd to me, however, was that he planned on letting me inside and driving me somewhere. Something that it seemed he definitely needed at the moment. I could see his fingers moving, his fists clenching and unclenching, in his jean pockets.

            “Where’s the car?”

            “Just over there.”

            We walked for a few more minutes, to a student parking lot. To the back corner, where a small, shimmering black Nissan was parked. I could tell, from the make and model, that it was old—at least a decade. But it was sparkling so brightly that it could have been bought yesterday. He pulled out the keys from his bag and unlocked it, gesturing toward the passenger seat. With a nervous smile, I opened the door and got in.

            My suspicions that the car was old were confirmed when I noticed that it was a stick shift. Even the inside was ridiculously clean, with the seats kept nice and fresh-smelling. There was a little skull-shaped keychain hanging from the rearview mirror, a pack of cigarettes and his golden lighter between the seats. A backpack and some books in the back seat. Unlike his apartment, I could sense the scent of tobacco in here. He didn’t say anything as he started the car, revving up the engine while I watched his every move.

            “Where are we going?” I asked. He put his arm on the back of my seat so that he could go into reverse, and the nearness of it was overwhelming. As he backed the car out of the parking space, he gave a little shrug.

            “You’ll see. Just sit tight and shut your pretty mouth, yeah? I need to get out of this fucking town for a few hours.”

            That was a satisfying answer for me.

            As soon as we were on the suburban roads, he rolled down his window and got out a cigarette, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. I opened my window, too. Then, with a sideways glance at me, he pointed to the lighter.

            “Light me up, would you?”

            _Would I._

I leaned over to his side, lighter in hand. I could see every detail in his lips, every dent and curve. I could see his tongue sitting lightly on the end of the cigarette. Could see his eyes scanning the road in front of him, and I noticed for the first time that he was wearing dark, perfectly applied eyeliner. I lit his cigarette and waves crashed in my ears as I heard him suck in the toxins. Then he put his arm out the window and drove with one hand and breathed on his cigarette as I leaned out of the window and felt the cold air. It was probably too cold to drive with the windows down, but he didn’t seem to care. So I didn’t, either.

            “Turn on the radio,” he commanded.

            “Sure.”

            I messed with the dashboard for a few minutes, at a complete loss about how this contraption was supposed to work, until I found him yelling at me and telling me what to do—don’t press that button, you idiot! no, not that one either! tch, just let me do it—but I couldn’t even be upset or uncomfortable (just a bumbling idiot) because I liked the sound of his voice so much. Eventually we finally landed on a station that he found passable. An old rock station. I leaned back in my seat and shivered from the cold, but couldn’t stop from smiling all the same. We drove through the town for about fifteen minutes, taking different turns that seemed familiar to him, until he finally made it onto an old country road that probably belonged in a movie somewhere. Surrounded by plain fields on one side, hills and a few distant mountains on the other. A road that was almost completely empty other than us. I could see the dirt kicked up by the tires, and the gray road zooming beneath us.

            “Say something,” he said after about 20 minutes. Van Halen had come on, and I had already lit another cigarette for him. “Anything, I don’t care what.”

            “Um...are you sure you want me to? If I start talking, I might not stop ever,” I laughed. He looked over at me, and even though he didn’t smile, I could see the lightness in his eyes and in the way his lips curved over the cigarette.

            “Hobbies. Favorite foods. Siblings. Anything,” he said. “Literally anything. I don’t care.”

            Even with the cigarette in his lips, he was still more fidgety than I’d ever seen him. Then again, I suppose I didn’t know him very well. I heard his phone buzz again, even though he’d thrown it to the back seat. I could see the screen lighting up. He was very deliberately ignoring it. If Levi wanted me to talk to him about myself, who was I to disobey? Especially when I liked to talk so much?

            “No siblings, though I had a dog once. But it was so long ago I don’t even remember its name. I’ve always wanted a little brother. Whenever I used to cry about it, my mom would comfort me by saying that she couldn’t; she needed to save all of her love for me,” I said, smiling. “I didn’t realize that if she wanted another kid, a father would’ve been kind of necessary.”

            “Ever met your dad?”

            I was surprised that he was so willing to ask me such a personal question. But he had, and it didn’t make me very uncomfortable, so I answered.

            “Yeah. I remember his voice and the way he smelled. But I was young when he left. Four, maybe?”

            “Your mother never remarried?”

            “No.”

            I was getting into dangerous territory now. My chest was starting to hurt. I knew I shouldn’t have gone down this road. So I changed the subject as soon as I could, to alleviate this pressure that had fallen upon me.

            “Let’s see, hobbies. I like to play video games. I like to read—but only certain books. I’ve realized recently that I’m not that big into super dense literature, but it seems like all my friends are. My best friend Armin is the biggest bookworm you’ll ever meet. Kafka’s his favorite. Which is fine, dude’s all right, but I prefer Stephen King. And graphic novels. A lot of the time I just listen to music and watch movies and shit. I’m actually kind of boring.”

            “When did you realize you weren’t straight?” he asked.

            Another weird question that any normal person would have felt awkward asking, completely out of the blue. But he asked it as if it were a natural part of this conversation, a reasonable deviation. I blinked, trying to mull over my answer. I hadn’t ever really thought about this. The sky was getting a little more blue now, the clouds moving away.

            “I think when I lost my virginity.”

            “With a girl?”

            “Mhmm. It wasn’t like an epiphany or anything. I just kind of thought to myself, yeah, that was cool, but why limit myself? You know? And I started to see everything differently. Everyone is beautiful, I think, but they’re beautiful in different ways to different people. I mean, you probably get it.”

            He didn’t say anything. My thoughts were spilling from my tongue and I wasn’t sure if that was such a good idea. I hardly knew him. All I knew was that he made me feel light.

            I kept talking. He kept making offhand comments. But that was the last weird question he asked. After about forty-five minutes, he turned off onto a dirt road that was unpaved and bumpy, at the base of a big hill with another path swirling up to its peak. He parked the car at the bottom and told me to get out, so I did. Once he had locked the car, he nodded toward the top of the hill.

            “Up for a little hike?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (funny story I recently bought some Docs and I love them to death and I was at a party and someone spilled beer on them and now I feel I can truly relate to Levi on a personal level because I swear I almost destroyed everyone in the room)
> 
> will update soon! Thanks for reading!


	9. I Talk A Lot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this chapter
> 
> A little cliché
> 
> But whatever
> 
> Enjoy <3

8

I Talk A Lot

 

            He asked me to keep talking until we got to the top, so I did. Just ran my mouth. I didn’t get near the subject of my mother again, but I talked about practically everything else. He would answer sometimes, reply with a terse little tidbit about himself to counter mine.

            My favorite food was pizza (could I get more generic?)—his was anything not messy or sweet, apparently. My favorite movie was _The Terminator—_ his was _V for Vendetta_. I liked to watch Law and Order marathons on the weekends—he didn’t watch much television, but Hanji had forced him to watch Breaking Bad with them, and he didn’t mind Game of Thrones.

            (I considered asking him about his relationship with Hanji, but decided I didn’t want to just then.)

            I loved anything horror—he was indifferent to it, unless it could really terrify him, in which case he enjoyed it. Halloween was my favorite holiday—he didn’t have a favorite holiday. I liked roller coasters a lot—he did, too, because not many other things gave him a rush like that. My favorite animal was a bunny, but I didn’t like to admit that to people—his was the cat. I’d never smoked weed before—neither had he, though he’d had many a chance and supposedly done some other things. He viewed drugs in same way he viewed alcohol: with disdain.

            Talking and watching the sweat roll down his temples as we climbed up made me forget about the aching in my legs. He didn’t seem to be feeling anything at all, his hands never moving from his pockets. He kept his face staring straight ahead, up the path, and I could see a goal shimmering in his eyes. His lips looked a little bit chapped, but the way the sunlight danced on his face made everything seem brighter. I gazed outward and saw the empty road, could see the buildings of the city rising up in the distance. Saw his car parked at the bottom. Even through the chilliness we were sweating.

            “We’re here,” he said after about 20 minutes of climbing. Climbing and talking on my part, climbing and listening on his. We had reached the top, where there was a flat area and flowers that you wouldn’t expect to grow there. Sparse patches of grass and a few shrubs that looked rather thirsty. I stood beside him, my chest heaving and leaning down on my knees, as he looked at his kingdom.

            “Jeez, when you wanna leave, you _really_ leave,” I breathed. “How did you even know about this place?”

            He sat down on the ledge of the hill’s peak, bending his knees and leaning his arms against them. So he could look out at the plain, simple, somehow beautiful view. I sat down beside him, and then fell back so I could breathe and look at the sky.

            “When I was sixteen, my friend showed it to me. Said it helped her clear her head. We got into a car and drove out here. I’ve been coming ever since,” he explained.

            “You had a car when you were sixteen?”

            “That’s what you chose to pick out of the story?”

            “Just curious,” I smiled.

            “No. We stole it. Well, borrowed it. We gave it back eventually.”

            “You stole a car?”

            He looked down at me and smirked, lighting another cigarette. I laughed, because I couldn’t help it. I wondered how his laugh sounded. I realized then that I was laying awfully close to him, with my shoulder brushing the side of his leg.

            “How about your friend? Does she still come up here with you?”

            “No. She doesn’t. It’s just me.”

            “Oh.”

            “But she was right. It helps clear the head,” he said, “being up high like this.”

            “It’s nice up here.”

            Just for the hell of it, I checked my phone. No service, just as expected. I grinned and stuffed it back in my pocket, and noticed that he was still watching me. I smiled up at him. Blinked my eyes, because I knew that he liked them. Everybody liked them.

            “Aren’t you gonna offer me a cigarette?” I said.

            “Fuck no.”

            “Why? That’s kinda rude, don’t you think?”

            “I would never wish this habit on anybody, nor encourage it,” he said with another puff. “It’s dirty and unhealthy, and I wish I could quit.”

            “Then just quit.”

            “I will.” He said it very defiantly, but with a twinge that made it very clear that he was not going to quit. I didn’t mind that he smoked. It was beautiful, the way that he did it, even though I couldn’t count how many times I’d scoffed at people with their cigarettes and their lung cancer.

            “Even through the smoke, the air is really clean up here, huh?”

            “Mhmm.”

            I sat up on my elbows and followed his gaze, watching the gorgeous emptiness. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so...light. Not a single burden on my shoulders. Not a single care in my mind. Just me, in this larger-than-life landscape, next to someone whose cigarette smoke and chapped lips were making me weak with longing. A longing that was mixed with a sort of contentment that stemmed from the mere fact that we were here together.

            “I don’t know a lot about you,” I said suddenly.

            “I don’t know a lot about you, either,” he replied, “except that you like roller coasters and bunny rabbits and watching me smoke.”

            “What even runs through your head all day? Like, what makes you think, I’m gonna give this guy a hand-job today. Or, I’m gonna go to a coffee shop with this guy today. I’m not gonna text this guy back for three weeks, but today, I’m gonna sweep him off his feet.”

            “You think _that’s_ what runs through my head?” he said bluntly. He wasn’t looking at me, but at the cigarette between his fingers. Like there was a secret hidden within its toxic filter. “You overestimate my decision-making processes.”

            “How so?”

            “I don’t think things through in as much detail as you assume. I just do it.” He crushed the cigarette on the ground and flicked it over the edge, watching it fall until it disappeared from view. I imagined it falling right on someone’s head. “I don’t give myself a lot of time to make decisions.”

            “Why not? Sometimes important decisions take a lot of time. Like, do I wanna go to medical school, or law school? Do I wanna take this job, or that job? Do I want pizza, or sushi?”

            I saw his crooked smile again.

            “I mean, I say things like that, but ask anyone. I’m as impulsive as it gets,” I chuckled. “Most of the time I let my temper make my decisions for me.”

            “I’ve never had the luxury of time,” he said. “I’m confronted with a situation. I consider the outcomes. I make my decision.”

            “I’ve never heard anyone call time a luxury before.”

            “Then you don’t know a very diverse spectrum of people, brat.”

            I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, so I just shut my mouth and rolled onto my back again. I watched the clouds roll by and listened to his breathing. Steady, soothing.

            “The sky looks really beautiful with all these clouds. You should lie down and look at it,” I said softly. Without a word, he got onto his back and, our shoulders pressed together, looked at the sky. “Makes you want to fly.”

            We stared up in perfect, glassy, breathtaking silence. I closed my eyes for a moment and found myself afraid that if I opened them, the moment would disappear and he wouldn’t be by my side anymore. But I did open them. So I could turn my face and look at him. His face was expressionless and serene, dark eyes directed upward. I noticed just then another tattoo that I had missed before—a feather behind his pierced ear. I wanted to reach out and touch it. But I didn’t. I just watched him, picked out every detail of his face. Tried to keep my breathing steady. Unable to tear my eyes away. Somehow he seemed a bit sadder, a bit more human up here, than I’d ever seen him. As if he was terribly lonely.

            _How did I even get to this point?_

I couldn’t recall when I had crossed the line between wanting to fuck him and wanting more than that—wanting all of him, in every sense and in every context. Maybe when he had told me to get into his car and asked me to light his cigarette. Maybe when we had climbed up here together. Maybe when I had watched him flick his cigarette over the edge of the hill. Or maybe way before that. Maybe when he had given me his book. Maybe when I had kissed him and tasted him. Maybe when he had told me I was cute.

            Or maybe it had been when he’d first looked at me, first said my name. And I just hadn’t noticed at the time.

            But I definitely noticed now. I was infatuated with every part of him, physical or not. I think the fact that I knew close to nothing about him intrigued me more, made me want to nestle my way right into his distant heart (was it really that distant?). I’ve never been one to turn down challenges, and falling in love with Levi seemed like a challenge.

            So at that moment, laying beside him and looking up at the sky with our shoulders pressed together and the sides of our hands brushing and the smell of flowers and grass and cigarette smoke in the air, I decided that I wanted to fall in love with him. 

* * *

 

            “Fuck, Mikasa’s pissed,” I grumbled as I climbed back into the car. Levi was starting up the car and I was checking my phone. There were three missed calls from her, one missed call from Armin, and a million text messages from both of them. I could just picture the face she was going to give me—a disappointed mother kind of look that made me feel guilty and terrified and livid at the same time.

            By the time Levi had suggested we go back down to the car, the stars had started to come out and I had been close to falling asleep. Now we were driving back down the road to the college campus and I was texting Mikasa a quick message to let her know I was on my way back. She sent me a message asking (more like demanding) that I go to her room when I got back. I couldn’t refuse, but my stomach sank at the thought of confronting her. I had agreed to have dinner with them and be back by four, but it was nearly eight now.

            “You close with Mikasa now?” Levi asked. The windows were rolled up now and he didn’t bother with the cigarette.

            “Yeah. She’s great, but she can be so...overbearing,” I said grumpily. I slumped down in the seat and crossed my arms. “Like, I get that she cares, but she’s not my mom. You know?”

            Levi was silent for a few moments before he said, “Stay close to her.”

            “What?”

            “Mikasa is an important person to have in your life. Stay close to her.”

            I could have sworn I saw his fingers clench the steering wheel more tightly, but I’ll never be absolutely certain.

            His phone was still in the backseat, but it was buzzing like crazy now, and getting on my nerves.

            “Aren’t you gonna answer that?” I finally hissed.

            “No.”

            “It’s been going off ever since we got into the car! Probably before that!”

            “And?”

            “It’s probably important! And it’s fucking annoying.”

            “Deal with it. Or put it on silent if you want. I don’t care.”

            He was not going to budge, but neither was I. With over-exaggerated movements and a huff and a puff and I reached back and grabbed his phone. When I turned on the lock-screen, I saw 33 missed calls and 40 text messages from the same person: Erwin Smith. I pretended not to have noticed and just put it on silent so I didn’t have to deal with the buzzing anymore, and then I tossed it to its previous spot. I noticed Levi throw a sideways glance at me, but I just slumped back down in my seat and tinkered with my own phone.

            We were silent after that. He didn’t ask me to talk, like he had the first time. He didn’t yell at me to turn on the radio. He just drove, occasionally looking over at me or shifting his position in the seat. All while I replayed the day in my head. Relishing in every detailed memory, wondering how I could make sure every image was imprinted forever.

            I even managed to convince myself that something—something slight, maybe, but something nonetheless—had changed in Levi over the course of the day. A different manner of speaking to me, perhaps? A different manner of looking at me? I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was a change in him that made me more comfortable. Expecting him to yell at me or insult me, but also expecting him to make me feel warm in the way that everyone wants to feel. Although, after the phone issue, the warmth had subsided a little bit. Just a little bit. But he wasn’t as jittery anymore. Stoic and calm and so very beautiful.

            He dropped me off right in front of Mikasa’s dorm. I was almost reluctant to get out when he put the car in park and looked over at me, his hand on the stick.

            “Well, thanks for today,” I said, uncertain of myself again. “It was nice. Really nice.”

            He didn’t say anything. But I knew he was waiting for me to keep going—he was predicting exactly what I would do next. So I jumped head-first into his trap.

            “Hey, Levi.”

            “What.”

            “Do you mind if...” I swallowed, felt my heart beat faster. “Do you mind if I kiss you?”

            “Why are you asking me?” he said, though his expression didn’t change. “You didn’t ask me last time.”

            “I-I know, I know, but I wanna be sure this time that it’s okay,” I said. I was going to start stumbling over my words soon. “So, do you mind? Can I kiss you?”

            He blinked at me, held my gaze with fire, and then slowly, deliberately licked his lips.

            That was a green light if I ever saw one.

            I leaned forward until my lips were just above his, our noses barely brushing. I was looking at his lips and I knew he was looking at mine. I brought my hand up to his chin and let my thumb touch his lower lip. For a few moments. Just to touch him. Then I closed my eyes and I kissed him, trapped his lips in my own, but was gentle. I didn’t want to push myself too far this time. Didn’t want to make any mistakes, didn’t want to fuck up again. But as I was pulling away, he opened his mouth slightly and ran his tongue along my lip. Desire exploded in every inch of my body until I felt a physical pain, but I forced myself back into the seat with a heavy sigh. He was still leaning forward, his lips parted, watching me.

            “Satisfied?” he murmured.

            “Of course not,” I breathed. “But I don’t wanna do anything else. Thanks again. Seriously. Even if you were just indulging the whims of a stupid eighteen year-old kid...it meant a lot to me.”

            He paused.

            “Good to hear. Now get out. Her majesty awaits.”

            “Oh, fuck, you’re right. See you later, then.” I moved to get out of the car. But before I closed the door, I popped my head back in. “Will you text me back this time? Within a few days, at least?”

            “Don’t get ahead of yourself, brat,” he said with a smile.

            I was okay with that answer, so I closed the door and dragged my feet up the stairs to where I knew a terrible guilt trip was awaiting me. 

* * *

 

            I had barely knocked on the door when I heard a voice from inside say, “Come in.” Practically shaking, I opened the door to Mikasa’s room and went inside. The lights were on, and for a second I didn’t think anyone was actually inside, until I saw a large bulge under the covers of the bed. I closed the door and felt my brow furrow.

            “Guys?”

            “It’s cold, so Armin doesn’t want to move,” I heard Mikasa say from under the covers. They were cuddling again. Something that Armin had always loved to do, but had never really been able to convince me to do (I don’t know if I believe in platonic cuddles). But Mikasa cuddled with him whenever he asked. She did almost whatever he asked with the diligence of a mother spoiling her child. But did she spoil me? No. She treated me more like the problem child than anything.

            “Why’d you bail on us?” Armin said. I was done with their antics, so I walked to the bed and pulled the blankets back. Sure enough, Armin and Mikasa were there, cuddling like there was no tomorrow. She had braided his hair again.

            “Um, well, it’s kind of a long story.”

            “Oh, do you have plans? Somewhere to be? Don’t have time to tell us?” Mikasa said with a completely straight face. Her flavor of sarcasm was rather bitter. I sighed and sat down on the bed. And, beneath her sharp gaze and Armin’s wide-eyed, expectant one, I told them how the day had panned out. Without as much sentimentality, of course. And I left out the kiss. 

            “Wow. Where did you even go?” Armin asked. He and Mikasa were sitting up now, facing me.

            “I don’t know. It was some random road and I wasn’t paying attention to the road signs.”

            “You trust people too easily,” Mikasa said. Getting right to the point. “What would you have done if it turned out Levi was some crazy serial killer?”

            “Come on, don’t be like that,” I replied. “You’re the one who texted him anyway. I mean, you trust him, right?”

            “Not in the slightest.”

            “He’s your cousin, stop lying!”

            “I’m not lying.”

            “Whatever. I trust him, okay? It was fine. I just lost track of time.”

            “Well, did you have fun?” Armin asked with a smile.

            “I mean...yeah, I guess I did.”

            He smiled more widely and we fell into conversation, though I couldn’t ignore the dark, clouded expression on Mikasa’s face. And I recalled again what Levi had said to me.

            _“Stay close to her.”_

As irritating as she was sometimes, I knew there was no way we’d ever not be friends. Not now. Not when we had somehow found it within ourselves to trust in each other utterly and completely. But I couldn’t help but wonder why Levi would say something like that.

            For the rest of the night we talked and dicked around on the internet and tried to watch a movie, but Armin fell asleep halfway through, so Mikasa tucked him in and we played Smash Bros. on her Wii U. Her roommate was out for the night, so she told me I could stay over. Armin, apparently, was taking her up on the offer.

            But, about an hour after Armin had fallen asleep, Mikasa put down her game controller and looked over at me.

            _I should’ve known that the worst was yet to come. She never lets me off the hook so easily._

“Eren. I want you to listen to me, okay? Don’t just pretend to listen and then ignore it,” she said. Her voice had gotten frighteningly serious.

            “Hey, I don’t do that!”

            “Whatever. I just need you to listen to me at this moment, all right?”

            “Sure, fine, whatever.”

            “Please be careful with Levi.”

            _I should’ve predicted this._

“What do you even mean by that? You said it when we first met, too.”

            “I’m serious, Eren.”

            “I know you are, I just don’t get why.”   

            She leaned forward then and grabbed my wrists, looking deep into my eyes with such fervor that my heart stopped.

            “Levi is dangerous, okay? If I had known you’d get this far with him, if I had been able to predict what would happen, I wouldn’t have texted him. I would have convinced you back at the beginning to not even talk to him. I didn’t think you two would...just, please. Keep your distance.”

            “You can’t tell me who I can and can’t get close to, Mikasa.”

            _Don’t get so jealous._

            “Fine then. I’ll beg you.” She squeezed my wrists more tightly. “Please, please, please be careful.” 

            _...But this is more than jealousy._

“Fine, fine, I’ll be careful,” I said. This was strange. Levi was telling me to stay close to Mikasa, but Mikasa was telling me to stay far, far away from Levi.

            _What is going on?_

“Do you promise me?” she murmured. Her hands were very warm. “Promise me, Eren.”

            “All right, I promise I’ll be careful.”

            I wasn’t sure what ‘careful’ entailed. But I did know that there was no way to stop now—no way to keep myself from him anymore. Mikasa’s words were futile, and I think she knew it.

            “I promise.”


	10. I Hear Things I Shouldn't Have

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eeehhhhh 
> 
> not much to say about this one
> 
> yayy for indulging my headcanons about Erwin's beauty routines
> 
> <3

**9**

**I Hear Things I Shouldn’t Have**

 

            I woke up on Mikasa’s floor the next morning thinking that it all must have been a dream. There was no way that could have happened. It was too surreal, too much like a vision I would see in my sleep. But just the fact that I was there was proof enough that it had happened. Once my disorientation subsided, I smiled a goofy smile and wanted to laugh. I rolled onto my side and hugged myself, only then noticing that Mikasa and Armin were both awake and staring at me like I was insane.

            I had lost any ounce of self-control that had been inside me until that point, and sent a message to Levi at about noon. I asked him if he wanted to watch a movie with me later that night—I wouldn’t be able to cook anything but ramen, I clarified, but popcorn was good enough for a movie. Surprisingly, it only took him a few hours to message me back. A short message telling me that he and Erwin had an exam to study for, but if I wanted to join, I was welcome at their apartment for dinner. Hanji’s turn to cook.

            “I wouldn’t go if I were you,” Mikasa said when I mentioned it to her.

            “And just why not?”

            “Hanji’s a terrifying cook.”

            “How do you know? Do you even know Hanji?” I gawked.

            “We work in the same lab.”

            _Of course you do._

“Well, I’m going, okay?” I said defiantly, crossing my arms. She looked at me just as defiantly.

            “All right. I’ll go with you.”

            “ _What?_ ”

            “Armin, you have plans tonight, don’t you?” she asked him. He was sitting on the bed, still wrapped in her blankets and writing notes.

            “Huh? Oh, yeah. Jean, Annie and I are getting dinner.”

            “ _That’s_ a weird group,” I mumbled under my breath.

            “Then it’s settled. I’ll come with you to Levi’s tonight,” she said again. “Besides, you’re more of a stranger to them than I am.”

            “You know what, screw you.”

            She just patted my head, and I swatted her hand away. As always. 

* * *

 

            We stood in front of their door at seven thirty, even though we had agreed on seven—Mikasa and I had gotten into another argument, only to end with her nearly dragging me by my ear out of the door. I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a thick jacket, while she wore leggings and an oversized sweater. I wondered why she would wear anything that didn’t show off her killer figure. Literally killer. I was the one who knocked, albeit anxiously. I hadn’t been anxious at first, but I could hear that weird new age music coming from inside. The same music I’d heard when I’d first met Hanji. Loud sounds were erupting, like pots and pans clanging, and I heard a few different voices yelling. I glanced over at Mikasa, who just shrugged and gave me her infamous I-told-you-so look.

            “Hey! Long time no see, cutie!” Petra said when she opened the door. “Oh, Mikasa, you’re here, too.”

            “ _Fuck_ , Mikasa’s here?!” I heard from inside. “ _Hide the guns._ ”

            “Don’t worry, I brought my own,” Mikasa called back. Hanji responded with their maniacal laugh, and Petra let us inside. As expected, the place was a mess, especially the kitchen. Hanji had spread out an entire infantry of cooking materials, I could see something in the oven, and there was a pot with smoking rising from it on the stove. As if they were compensation, there were bowls of chips and pretzels on the table in the living room.

            “Make yourselves comfortable! Sorry it’s kind of a mess,” Petra said with a smile. “Gosh, you’re just as cute as ever, aren’t you?”

            I laughed nervously as Hanji hopped over, oven mitts on their hands. They had their brown hair tied up into a messy bun, with flour all over their face and a lab coat instead of an apron. I blinked at them, wishing that I had listened to Mikasa. But I avoided her gaze, because I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction.

            “Brought along your bodyguard, huh?” they chuckled with a wink.

            “She’s not my bodyguard,” I grumbled. As they laughed and joked and Petra apologized on their behalf in cute little giggles, I glanced around the room as inconspicuously as I could. Levi and Erwin were nowhere to be seen. However, I did see someone unfamiliar sitting on the couch. The final mystery roommate, I assumed.

            “Yo, Mike! You met Eren yet?” Hanji called. The guy sitting on the couch stood up and shook his head. He was ridiculously tall, and looked at least thirty years-old (though he was only 21). He had a grim, somber look about him, but it wasn’t unfriendly. Just...kind of strange. He walked over and, before I could even introduce myself, leaned down and smelled my neck.

            “Ack!” By instinct I jumped back, cringing. “Wha—?”

            “You have an interesting smell,” he said.

            “Mike likes to smell people,” Hanji explained. Mike smiled down at me, and then put his hand out. I shook it with a wavering smile, while Mikasa plopped down on the couch and put a handful of pretzels in her mouth.

            “Where’s the twerp?” she asked.

            “In the bathroom with Commander Handsome,” Hanji answered, heading back to the kitchen. Mike and Petra took their seats beside Mikasa, but I was feeling too restless to sit down. Wondering, of course, why Levi was in the bathroom with Erwin (Commander Handsome?). “Petra, why don’t you go tell them that Eren and Mikasa are here?”

            “Sure thing, darling.” Petra hopped up in her little skirt and opened the door to the bathroom.

            “What?” I heard Levi ask, in an aggravated tone, from the other side of the door.

            “Cutie’s here,” she said, making me blush.

            “Great. Want me to get confetti or something?”

            “It’s rude to keep guests waiting,” Mikasa called, turning on the television.

            “Fuck, little Miss Perfect is here, too?” Suddenly Levi’s head appeared in the doorway of the bathroom. I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from laughing. He had his hair pinned back with flower hairpins, was wearing a baggy t-shirt rolled up to the sleeves, boxers, fuzzy socks with cats on them, and a flowery pink apron.

            “Don’t act so happy to see me,” Mikasa said.

            “Trust me, I won’t.” As I struggled with the laughter sitting on my lips, Levi noticed me standing there, and narrowed his eyes. “What are you laughing at?”

            “N-nothing,” I managed. “Nothing at all.”

            “Levi!” That was Erwin’s voice, coming from within the bathroom.

            “I’m coming, I’m coming, don’t shit yourself.”

            Petra waltzed over to where I was standing, finally letting the chuckles out.

            “What are they doing in there?” I asked.

            “Go see for yourself,” she smiled.

            Still giggling, I walked over to the bathroom and poked my head in. And then, my giggles turned into uncontrollable laughter. Erwin was sitting on the toilet, hands in his lap, eyes closed. Levi was standing over him and spreading wax over his brow area with a popsicle stick, delicately. Then he placed a piece of what looked like normal paper to me over the wax, pressed it down, and ripped it off. Erwin hardly even flinched. When I burst into laughter, Levi turned to face me, his hands still stretching out Erwin’s skin, and if looks could kill I would have dropped dead right there.

            “Still laughing, brat?”

            “I’m sorry,” I panted, “but I just—I never expected—!”

            “Take heed, Eren,” Erwin said with a smile. “It takes work to have eyebrows like these.”

            “I’ll throw this tub of boiling wax at you if you don’t get the fuck out,” Levi hissed at me. I obeyed without another word—I wouldn’t have been able to say anything through the laughter anyway.    

            “Levi doesn’t charge, and he’s better than most of the salons around here anyway,” Petra winked.

            “Dinner’s ready!”

* * *

             Though it seemed Hanji’s methods of cooking were as terrifying as Mikasa had warned, the food itself was rather good. They must have had a thing for ravioli, because that’s what they made. We squeezed together around a small table. Mikasa on my right, Mike on my left, Levi across from me squeezed between Hanji and Erwin, with Petra beside Erwin. Levi had taken off his apron but still had his hair pinned back, and each time I looked at him anew I had to hold back my laughter. In the back of my mind, I was imagining how it would feel to take them out of his hair myself. How it would feel to run my fingers through his dark tresses.

            “Let us say our prayers,” Hanji began. They grabbed Levi and Mikasa’s hands, and then looked at the rest of us expectantly.

            “Stupid shitty glasses,” Levi mumbled, slipping his hand into Erwin’s. “You better have washed your hands.” This was such a bizarre situation, sitting around this table in Levi’s apartment holding Mikasa and Mike’s hands, holding back laughter and waiting to eat ravioli that Hanji had made. If someone had told me yesterday that this was what my Sunday night would consist of, I would have scoffed.

            “To the ravioli gods above,” Hanji began, “we pray that you bless this dinner, which we have prepared in your likeness. And to the Sunday night gods, we pray that you tell the Monday morning gods to go easy on us.”

            “Amen,” Petra and Mike murmured. Mikasa glanced over at me, a smile on her lips, and I nearly lost it again.

            Then we ate, and talked, and joked, and it was really, indescribably nice. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a home-cooked meal and, though I didn’t know most of the people at the table that well, I felt undeniably welcome and warm and content.

            Mike was quiet, giving his opinion (pretty eloquently) on some things and pausing every few moments to smell the food or me or himself. Hanji was by far the most talkative, gushing about their latest experiments or upcoming lectures and, at one point, they even went into a very in-depth description of the importance of taking extremely cold showers to maintain the probiotic system in our bodies. Petra laughed and teased and blushed. Erwin and I took it upon ourselves to indulge Hanji in their eccentricities, and at a certain point I realized that I was generally interested in what they had to say. I’d never been much of a science person, but Hanji made everything sound dramatic and exciting.

            Levi and Mikasa were both pretty quiet and stoic, as always, jutting into a conversation only when they found it absolutely necessary.

            “What do you think, Levi? Should we get a pet? A weird one, like an iguana or a snake,” Hanji asked him. He put his silverware down and looked up at them.

            “We already have a weird pet.”

            “What? We do?”

            “Yup. Right here.” He grabbed the top of their head and pulled them down, looking straight into their eyes. Petra began to laugh and even Mikasa fought to cover her smirk. Erwin raised his (recently waxed, still kind of red) eyebrows at me. It was satisfying, fascinating, to see these relationships play out.

            While I was getting seconds, encouraging Erwin to really heap it on, I caught Levi’s gaze. The intensity of it was surprising to me. As if he had been waiting for me to look over, be pierced by that light. That throbbing, queasy feeling appeared in my stomach again—the same one I’d felt when I’d first laid eyes on him. God, I wanted to fuck him. Even if his hair did look ridiculous. And he knew I wanted to fuck him. He was toying with me, I knew he was, but I couldn’t avoid this trap. I played right into his hands. Because I think he wanted to fuck me, too.

            Under the table, being very careful, I slipped my leg forward. Just until I felt my foot brush against his. He turned away then, to a makeshift conversation with Hanji, but didn’t move his leg. I pressed more tightly against it, until I felt him push back. I bit down on my ravioli and looked down at my plate to hide my smile, but there was no hiding the heat in my cheeks. I worried for a second that Mikasa might be able to hear the pounding of my heart, like a drum, right beside her. When I looked back up, I caught Levi’s gaze again, and my sense of overwhelming desire was refreshed—a landslide crashing against any sense of rationality left in my not-so-rational-to-begin-with brain.

            All I could feel was the pressure of his leg against mine and dream of feeling every part of him.

            We helped clean up after dinner, and Levi made tea. After cleaning with extreme diligence. I’d never seen anyone wash dishes with such...intensity. Mikasa turned on the television again, though I knew she didn’t like to watch it that much, and moved to the living room with Petra, Mike, and Erwin. While I stayed back and dried the dishes as Hanji tried to put together some impromptu dessert.

            “I have Oreos?”

            “I like Oreos.”

            “Oreos it is, then.”

            As they walked past me, without warning, they grabbed at my hair and pulled out a few strands. I cried out, stumbling back and nearly tripping on my feet as I felt the sting in my scalp.  

            “What the—?”

            “Yes! I have your DNA now. Thank you, I’ll get back to you with the results,” they said, smiling widely at the piece of hair they had just ripped from my head.

            “Results of what now?”

            “Don’t bother,” Levi groaned. “You won’t understand a word they say anyway.”

            After that everybody kind of went and did their own thing. Petra wanted to go to bed early, so she retreated to her room. Levi and Erwin said they still had work to finish, so they pulled out their laptops and sat on the couches and typed away. Hanji and Mikasa talked about the most recent experiments of the lab they were working in, and Mike was very involved in drinking his tea. I sat on the couch, cross-legged, looking at the images on the screen but not really watching. Eating Oreos. (We were all eating them except for Mikasa and Levi—it seemed they shared a contempt for sweets.) Fighting the urge to reach over and put my hand on Levi’s thigh.

            About an hour and a half later, Mikasa stood up.

            “Eren. You have to go study. I can only help you tonight because I’m busy this whole week, remember?”

            “Ugh, you’re right.”

            “Have an exam this week?” Erwin asked as I stood from my seat.

            “Yeah. Econ on Wednesday.”

            “Good luck. You’ll be fine.”

            “Yeah, right, thanks.”

            I thanked them for the dinner, perhaps a little too profusely, while Mikasa waited patiently at the door. Hanji made us promise to come back again soon (so they could give me my results and have me try their spaghetti, apparently), Erwin told me I was welcome at the frat house anytime, and Levi gave me a wave of his hand. Not even having to ask to know that I was going to text him sooner rather than later. He must have known how unsatisfied I was feeling, what with the way he had been looking at me all night.

            _I know you want me._

_Just come out and say it._

_I’ve made myself clear, haven’t I?_  

            Just as we were exiting the building, I reached into my pocket to grab my phone, only to find it empty.            

            “Wait, Mikasa, I think I left my phone up there,” I said, frantically patting myself down.

            “Could you not have your head up your ass for once?”

            “No need to get snarky with me. Just hold on, all right? I’ll be back in a sec.”

            She crossed her arms and leaned against the door, eyes on my back as I scurried back up the stairs. This was just like me, to forget the one thing that I desperately needed. Out of breath, I hurried down the hall to their apartment—but just as I was about to knock, I heard them on the other side. Speaking in extremely loud voices.

            “Levi, just listen to me—”

            “No, _you_ listen to _me_.”

            It was Erwin and Levi.

            “How many times do you think we can do this? Huh? How many times before I get sick of it and bury my head in the sand?”  

            “We don’t have a choice at this point. You know that as well as I do,” Erwin said. I knew I should’ve knocked on the door, shouldn’t have eavesdropped, but I had never heard that kind of tone in Levi’s voice before. Angry, frustrated. My curiosity was raging.

            “I don’t have enough years of my life left to waste on your bullshit,” I heard Levi say.

            “Sacrifices are always going to be necessary. I thought you understood that.”

            “I do understand that. Better than anybody. But this...”

            “Levi.”

            “ _What?!”_

“Do you trust me?”

            There was an uncomfortable pause, and I realized that I was holding my breath and sweating bullets. I had no idea what they were talking about, but it sounded way over my head. Something that must have been more serious than anything I could imagine being in his life at this point. I suddenly remembered that time, when I had come to drop off the book and bumped into Erwin. He had had such a serious expression on his face—maybe that had something to do with what they were talking about now.

            “Of course I do. You know I do,” Levi finally said. Their voices had softened, and I had to press my ear to the door to hear. I was so intrigued that I couldn’t even feel guilty.

            “Then keep trusting me. I know what I’m doing.”

            “Fine. All right. Whatever.”

            “Good. But, listen, there’s something else I want to talk to you about.”

            “Hm? And just what’s that?”

            “About Eren. I understand where you’re coming from, but I think you should—”

            As soon as I heard my name, a switch flipped on in my brain, and I felt my heart drop. All of my normal functions just stopped and, even though I hadn’t really meant to, I started knocking on the door. Interrupting anything that I might have heard pertaining to myself. I took a deep breath to clear my head and wiped the stray beads of sweat on my temples. I waited for what felt like a century before Levi opened the door. He had let his hair down.

            “Back already?”

            “Uh, yeah, I forgot my phone,” I said.

            “Is it this one?” Erwin called from behind him.

            “Yeah, that’s the one.” He tossed me my phone. Levi moved his head slightly to make way for it, and I just barely caught it. My fingers were trembling. “Thanks. Well...g-good night.”

            “Hey, Eren.”

            “Yeah?” I stopped in my tracks at the sound of my name on Levi’s lips. He was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, sexy as fuck. Erwin had disappeared from my field of vision.

            “If you need help studying for your exam, come over on Tuesday. Since little Miss Perfect is busy.”

            “What? You mean it?”

            “Why not? I’m not bad at econ.”

            “That would be amazing! Seriously!”

            “All right. See you Tuesday, then.”

            And then he closed the door and I was left wondering what he and Erwin were going to say about me behind it.


	11. I Am Drunk Again

**10**

**I Am Drunk Again**  

            I decided to go to the gym with Reiner on Monday because Mikasa was bailing on me. Not that I minded—she had been dedicating the majority of her time to me for a while now, so it was only fair that she take some time for herself. And Reiner was a fun guy to hang around with. Though he had some monstrous muscles as well. All the better motivation for pushing myself at the gym, I told myself. We dragged Armin with us, too, and told him that using a bike wouldn’t be so bad. He used to ride his bike to school in high school anyway, and he eventually caved, saying that he could bring an e-book and read it while he biked.

            We ran first. As I moved on the treadmill, headphones in my ears and body vibrating with the stomps of my feet, my mind raced. Running wasn’t really my thing, but usually it helped me clear my head. Not today. Not after what had happened yesterday. I had tried convincing myself multiple times that my ears had just been playing tricks on me, but there was no way around it. Erwin and Levi had most definitely been talking about me. The context was a complete mystery. But I couldn’t forget the tone in Erwin’s voice when he had said my name. It had fallen from his lips like a warning, a whispered premonition of danger. For a fleeting moment I wished that I hadn’t interrupted; then I would have been able to hear the conversation unfold. But then the moment passed and I remembered that I didn’t want to know. Mikasa’s warnings were floating around in my head and making my stomach churn, and I didn’t want to think about it.

            But when I wasn’t thinking about that, I was thinking about the fact that I was going to Levi’s tomorrow to study—and when I wasn’t thinking about that, I was thinking about the coffee shop he’d taken me to—and when I wasn’t thinking about that, I was thinking about our little road-trip, our conversations at the top of the hill, the kiss in his old stick-shift.

            He filled every empty crevice of my mind to the point that it was making me physically sick with desire.

            After our run, we moved to the machines. I liked machines more because I could talk to people, make jokes, pump iron and feel my muscles grow stronger. Reiner and I tried to convince Armin to come do it with us, but he refused, sitting stubbornly on his bike.

            “So how are your classes going?” I asked Reiner as he did his bicep curls.

            “Eh, fine. Sometimes it’s stressful as hell around here,” he replied.

            “Tell me about it. I’m definitely in over my head.”

            “C’mon, don’t say that. You’re one of the hardest working guys I know. You’ll be fine.”

            “You think?”

            “Sure.” He smiled and handed me a dumbbell. “Just keep trucking along and it’ll all work out.”

            “Thanks, Reiner.”

            “Oh, hey. Isn’t that Mikasa?”

            “What?” I turned to where he had gestured, and sure enough, Mikasa was walking in. The first thing I felt was betrayal, because she had told me she couldn’t work out with me today—but the anger quickly faded when I saw Levi walk in behind her. Before Reiner could even say anything, I ducked behind one of the machines so that they couldn’t see me. I remembered then that Mikasa had mentioned when we’d first met that she and Levi were gym buddies.

            “Eren, wha—?”

            “ _Shh!_ I’m not here.”

            “Um...”

            Mikasa was wearing what she usually wore. The grey hoodie (underneath which she wore her sports bra), black spandex shorts, her hair tied back into a ponytail that accentuated the pink strand. Levi was wearing really nice, expensive-looking compression shorts that reached his knees and a white t-shirt that emphasized the muscles of his upper body. I noticed almost instantly that they were wearing matching sneakers, which I took note of to laugh at later. They were talking, Mikasa turning over her shoulder and he giving what seemed to be disinterested replies. I felt a pang of sadness once the realization hit that she had bailed on me to workout with Levi, because it meant that working out with me didn’t work her as hard as she’d like, and that was terribly embarrassing.

            “Eren. Who’s the short one?”

            “That’s Levi.”

            “Oh, I’ve definitely heard that name before,” he said, not to my surprise. “They dating?”

            “Ew, no. They’re cousins.”

            “Gotcha. Why are you avoiding them?”

            “Just...’cuz, okay?”

            “...okay?”

            Reiner and I watched in silence as Mikasa and Levi moved to the corner where the punching bag was, and put their bags down. They started stretching, still engaged in some kind of conversation (I couldn’t imagine what kind of things Levi and Mikasa talked about). Then they started shadow-boxing, taking advantage of the spacious area of the gym. As they moved, I noticed striking similarities in their mannerisms, the ways that they stepped and punched, even their facial expressions.

            “Damn, she’s really got a bod, doesn’t she?” Reiner whistled when Mikasa took her hoodie off. I nodded wordlessly. She did. She really did.

            But so did he.

            They faced each other then, said a few words, and nodded. And then they went at each other—Levi first. He attacked Mikasa as if she were an enemy, throwing punch after punch and kick after kick. She caught them all. Trapped, ducked, blocked, even opened her palm and took the punch straight against her hand-wraps. They moved in circles around each other, with Levi breaking every few combos to catch his breath before going at it again. They looked more like they were dancing than sparring. It was graceful and powerful, unbelievably breathtaking, as I stood and watched and wanted more than ever to have sex with Levi. He moved with such intensity, such power, the kind that you wouldn’t expect of someone his size. Though his muscles were a testament to his strength, I suppose.

            Reiner and I were speechless as we watched. The whole gym had most likely stopped what it was doing to watch them dance like this. After about five minutes they switched roles, with Mikasa attacking and Levi catching. She was even more unbelievable than he was (not that I was surprised). They knocked the breath out of each other, stumbled and caught themselves and I couldn’t help but think that somebody should have been filming this. At one point, Reiner whistled again, leaning against the machine.

            “Sexy as fuck,” he murmured. I nodded, knowing full well that he was thinking about Mikasa and I was thinking about Levi. I wanted him to take his shirt off so that I could see his other tattoos, see the sweat pouring along his outlined muscles. I wanted it so desperately. I could feel his lips against mine as I watched him, and the sensations were overwhelming.

            Soon, the novelty of their spectacle of a workout wore off, and everybody went back to their own activities. I could have kept watching, but Reiner and I decided to keep going with the machines. I hoped that Levi and Mikasa wouldn’t notice me—I wasn’t entirely sure why. I just felt as if talking to them in that moment, with the heat in my cheeks and the pounding in my chest, would be too much for me. But even as Reiner and I talked, and even as Armin walked up to us sweating and a little bit resentful, I kept them in my peripheral vision. Every few minutes I glanced over to watch them—always working different combos, still moving, sweating rivulets. Watching them (not to mention working out with body-builder-type Reiner) made me look at my own muscles in defeat; working with Mikasa and coming to the gym as often as I did was helpful, no doubt, but I was nothing compared to them.

            After about forty-five minutes, panting and sweating and looking like real athletes as opposed to essentially everyone else in the gym, Mikasa and Levi finally stopped. Reiner and I were working legs now, and Armin had gone home to sleep off the soreness in his legs. Thankfully, Mikasa and Levi hadn’t noticed me. Reiner was talking to me, telling me a funny story (probably) about something Bertholt and Annie had done, but I wasn’t really paying attention. I was watching them. They were sitting on the ground next to each other, close enough that their shoulders brushed, leaning against the wall and taking swigs from their water bottles. They looked almost ethereal, like they weren’t real people.

            They were speaking in hushed tones now, more quietly and with more intensity than before. Levi had his arms resting on his knees, leaning his head toward Mikasa as she spoke to him. There was a frightening expression on her face that I recognized—it was cold and stoic, but with a flash in her eyes that signified a passion. Red, furious passion. Levi was listening quietly as she spoke, and I could see from the swift movement of her lips that she was talking about something important. Something dramatic, something she wouldn’t want anybody else to hear. At one point Levi looked up at her with an expression that practically mirrored her own, said something softly, and nodded.

            Then it looked like they started to argue. But they did it all in murmurs, whispers, clouded in secrecy. I wanted to know what they were talking about; I wanted to know what could’ve been so important that Mikasa was speaking so violently all of a sudden. What could’ve been so important that even Levi was starting to get worked up, his brow furrowed and his eyes flashing.

            I pretended to laugh at Reiner’s story to cover up the fact that I was being the ultimate stalker.

            Finally, their argument seemed to come to a close. Mikasa let out a heavy sigh and put her hand on Levi’s arm, squeezing ever so slightly. Like a plea. Levi closed his eyes, took a deep breath, might’ve been saying something and might’ve not been saying anything, and then nodded. He looked away, put his hands to his temples. I’d never seen him looking like that. Torn up and truly frustrated about something. A disappointment I’d never witnessed in him.

            They got up and left, he lighting a cigarette as they walked out the door. Endless possibilities of what they’d been arguing about started roaming around in my oversaturated brain, but I tried to put them all aside and listen to Reiner talk to me because maybe it actually was a funny story.

            I didn’t mention it to Mikasa at all. We were almost always texting each other, but I decided it would be better to not stick my nose in where it didn’t belong for once. It seemed that, all of a sudden, there were secrets floating around everywhere. When Levi had disappeared, his random mood changes, his conversation with Erwin the other day, this argument. I remembered what Armin had said about Levi’s life essentially being an enigma, and I was starting to realize that Mikasa’s was, too. Not to the same extent, of course. Mikasa didn’t disappear for three weeks without a peep. I knew almost everything about her, it seemed. And yet, there was always that gnawing thought at the back of my head, the warning that she had to have been hiding something.

            I tried telling myself that it had nothing to do with me, but I wasn’t very convincing. 

* * *

 

            My exhaustion was written all over my face when I knocked on Levi’s door the next day, a Red Bull in my hand and my backpack full to bursting. There was opera playing. Hanji must not have been home, because I couldn’t smell anything weird and the apartment appeared spotless when Levi opened the door. Wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt—though he managed to make it look much more put together than I ever could. In my jeans and flannel, I hobbled inside, not quite awake enough to be reeling yet. But it would come soon.

            “You look like shit,” he greeted.

            “Thanks.”

            “Throw the Red Bull away. That stuff kills you.”

            “But I—”

            “Just do it. I’ll make tea.”

            “You and your fucking tea...” I sighed and let him take the Red Bull away, then took off my backpack and collapsed on the couch. The apartment looked empty except for us, with the lights slightly dimmed and lavender incense making everything flowery and sweet. I was surprised at how comfortable I was beginning to feel in this place. Like I was welcome. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d actually been inside, but each time had been some kind of crazy new adventure, and there was a solace I found in feeling comfortable in Levi’s apartment. Almost like I could reach out and touch such a tangible feeling, a feeling that made my head throb.

            “What time’s your exam tomorrow?” he asked from the kitchen.

            “Nine. I’m so not ready.”

            “So, get ready.”

            “Yeah, sure, I’ll just go ahead and do that.”

            He snickered at my sarcastic retort, but didn’t say anything. He came over with a mug of tea (I noticed that he always gave me the same mug, a plain red one) and sat down gently beside me. It hit me then, with him so close to me, that he had actually invited me to his apartment. Invited me to help me study. To _his_ apartment. Was making me tea and telling me I looked terrible and taking away my Red Bull so that I wouldn’t die before morning.

            _This can’t be real, can it?_

“Drink. It’ll wake you up. It’s only eight so study for a few hours, then sleep. That’s more important at this point. To be well rested,” he said. I blinked at him, not sure how to respond. (Definitely not by telling him that he always had bags under his eyes, so was he really one to talk?)

            “Is anyone else home...?”

            “No. Hanji’s at the lab, won’t be back until late. Sometimes they sleep there, obsessive as they are. Petra’s spending the night at her boyfriend’s. God knows where Mike goes at night.”

            _So it’s just us tonight._

_And he knew that when he invited me over, didn’t he?_

            He lit up while I started taking my books out. There was still so much economics I didn’t understand, even after sessions with Mikasa _and_ Armin _and_ office hours. I wasn’t sure why I was even taking this class in the first place, and it was enough to make me livid. But I had to suck it up and deal with it because there was no going back now. I crossed my legs on the couch and opened the book in my lap, holding the tea and trying to internalize the words on the page. And everything was made ten times more difficult when I could feel Levi watching me.

            Of course I didn’t mention anything to him about the gym incident, either. And I resisted the urge to ask him about his argument with Erwin. And why my name had come up.

            “What’s the exam over?” he asked.

            “Good question.”

            “You probably know more than you think,” he said.

            I looked over at him and tried to read him. Really, really tried. Why was he sometimes the biggest dick, and then other times, would pull shit like that out of his ass and throw it in my face like confetti? Things that made my heart just stop, that made me forget how to breathe—forget everything except for the sound of his voice and the flash of his eyes. He leaned a little bit closer to look at what I was reading, and I held my breath for reasons I can’t explain. Then he told me that he knew a little bit about this topic and that if I had questions I could ask him. And I thanked him in that stupid way I have, and wished that I could be that tiny rolled up cigarette between his lips. Wished that I could feel him closing down on me, wished that I could let myself fill him and burrow into his lips, his tongue, his lungs. Wished that I could be the poison that might one day destroy him from the inside out.

            I tried to concentrate on my studies. And for a few hours, it actually worked. I read through my notes, asked him any fleeting question that I had, and prayed that it would all sink into my brain. I was astonished at my own abilities to concentrate, perhaps motivated by the fact that I needed to really do well on this exam if I was to redeem myself from the last one. As I worked, he sat beside me on the couch, legs crossed, glasses on, reading what looked like a history book. But I had no idea what it was because it was written in French.

            “You speak French?” I asked him at one point. He nodded without looking up from the book. “I’ve always thought French is really beautiful. Did you learn it in school, or...?”

            “No. I have French roots.”

            “Oh.” I kept watching him, until he finally looked up at me.

            “You speak anything besides English?”

            “German. My mom spoke it to me growing up. But I think I’m starting to forget it.”

            “Ah.”

            Then I went back to studying econ and he went back to reading his French book.

            The next time he got up, it was eleven o’clock and my eyelids were already drooping, even though I hadn’t even gotten through half of the material I needed. Levi took our mugs back to the kitchen, and it sounded like he was getting something from a cabinet. Before I could realize what was happening, he had walked up behind me, brought his chin down just above my shoulder, and put his hand on the top of my head. I felt the heat of his palm seep into my scalp and savored the tingles that ran down my spin when his slender fingers danced in my knotted hair. He was looking down at the book over my shoulder, while my body became weak and warm. His glasses were sliding down his nose and I wanted to fix them for him.

            “You’ve made progress,” he said. “Here. Take a break.”

            With his other hand, he handed me a wine goblet with red liquid in it. Blinking sleepily, trembling from the nearness of him and his touch against me, his breath so close to my ear, my neck, my heart, I grabbed it. I smelled it.

            “Is this...wine?”

            “Yeah.”

            “I thought you hated alcohol.”

            “I do. That’s Mike’s. Apparently he has a talent for picking out the good stuff, so that one should be nice. Not that you would know.”

            “But I’m underage.”

            “Really? I had no idea.”

            “You’ll really let me drink this wine? Will he be okay with it?”

            “It’s fine. Just drink it.”

            I thought this was ironic. Alcohol was essentially the reason Levi and I had met in the first place. But I wasn’t about to ask questions if he was willing to give me a free drink on a night that I desperately needed it. I took a sip. I still wasn’t used to drinking alcohol, but I liked the taste of it. Mike really must have been good. Levi lifted his hand from my head and walked back around to the couch, nibbling on what looked like a little black pebble. Though he enlightened me that it was cardamom, which he liked to suck on to get the taste of tobacco out of his mouth. I paced myself, sipped on this wine and felt the light buzz, kept studying, and he picked up his book again. The opera was still playing. We must have gone through an entire one by now, though I hadn’t bothered to ask which one.

            By midnight, I was drunk—not in the traditional sense. I wasn’t drunk from the wine. I was drunk from the closeness of him. It had been gradually intoxicating me since I’d come in, since I’d sat on this couch in his apartment in the dim lights and the lavender incense and the slight scent of cigarette smoke that had long since disappeared. I hadn’t realized it at first, but when the sensations became so strong that I was losing myself, I knew that I had become drunk on Levi’s closeness to me. I was reading the words on the page, but internalizing nothing. I couldn’t separate the letters, couldn’t make sense of the graphs and the numbers. I couldn’t make sense of anything anymore, except for the fact that he was close to me.

            I looked up at him, and realized that he was looking up at me, too. And he had taken his glasses off. When did that happen?

            “It’s late,” I said. I sounded sleepy.

            “You gonna head back?”

            “Not yet. I still have a lot to study. I mean, if you don’t mind me staying.”

            “No. I sleep late anyway.”

            I stared as deeply as I could into his eyes, to try and translate my thoughts to him without having to actually speak them. Without having to open my mouth again.

            “How much do you have left?” he asked. But instead of waiting for me to answer, he leaned over and looked at the book. His hand was right next to my leg on the couch, his face right there in front of me. His eyebrow piercing had a beautiful way of shimmering in this dim light. The way he had moved was so deliberate. It sent me tumbling. “Well. At least you’ve gotten something done.”

            “I don’t think I can study anymore,” I murmured. He froze for a moment, and I engraved that still of him into my mind. That moment after I spoke when he was no longer human, but a masterpiece, still and beautiful before me. Then he looked up at me, and I realized that he had gotten even closer. That if I had leaned forward just a little bit more, my lips would be on his. The thought sent me into an abyss of absolute senselessness.

            “Why not?” he said. His voice low and smooth. I very obviously looked at his lips.

            “Because all I can think about is wanting to kiss you.”

            I could hardly hear my own voice now. He looked up into my eyes, and then his gaze flitted down to my lips. I saw what happened next in my mind before it actually happened. He slowly reached up and grabbed my chin with his thumb and his index finger. His eyes still firmly on my parted lips. I leaned forward into his touch, closed my flitting eyelids. I felt his breath before I kissed him (or did he kiss me?). His lips were smooth and soft and tasted like cardamom now. Not like cigarettes.

            My body was exhausted and my mind was exhausted and he was now controlling me, and I wanted him to control me. He opened his mouth and fit it against mine, slid his warm, wet tongue slowly and gently between my lips. It drew me toward him, pulled me forward in an inhuman desperation for more. He was so languid, so deliberate in his movements. I felt every detail of them. He twisted his tongue around mine, ran it along the inside of my lower lip, my upper lip, opened his mouth until it enclosed mine and let out a heavy sigh into me. While I sat on the couch and trembled, discovering sensations within me that I hadn’t known existed. Uncovering a new body that wasn’t quite mine yet. It was his for right now—completely and utterly his. He kissed me and I kissed him and my drunkenness took control. _He_ took control.

            When he pulled away, I heard myself groan, heard myself let out a heavy and gravelling sigh. Our foreheads were pressed together and I could feel the edges of his wet lips against my mouth. I wasn’t sure what else to do, so I reached up and grasped at the front of his shirt. Like a child. I pulled at it, while he moved his hand from my chin to my cheek. While he stroked the bone beneath my eye with his coarse thumb. Not smooth like I might have expected. Calloused.             But the most bizarre thing about this was that, in the midst of it all, tears had gathered on the edges of my eyes. They threatened to spill with every moment that passed, and I couldn’t explain why.

            “You taste like wine,” he whispered. I swallowed. I smiled.

            “I wonder whose fault that is.” I was amazed that I could still speak.

            “Eren.” He murmured my name and I shivered. “You have to keep studying.”

            “Only if you kiss me just like that. One more time.”

            His hand still on my cheek, he pressed his lips to mine again. But it was over before I could even close my eyes. He stood up and moved away and I felt a terrible cold overcome my body. He turned his back to me and dropped his French book onto the table. I wished that I could see the expression on his face.

            “Levi—”

            “Do you want another cup of tea.”

            “...Sure.”

            The rest of the night is a blur, even now. I remember drinking some tea, reading from the book, thinking about and reliving his kiss. I remember my eyelids drooping and the room becoming foggy and unclear. I remember falling down onto the armrest of the couch, my textbook still cradled in my lap. And I’m not sure if it actually happened or if it’s just the fantasies of a lovesick teenager, but I remember him taking the book, covering me in a blanket, planting a kiss on my forehead, while I fell asleep on his couch to dream of his taste filling me.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another one of my favorite headcanons is that mikasa and levi work out together
> 
> (i really like mikasa idk if you noticed yet)
> 
> will try to update soon <3


	12. I Have A Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow that took a really long time, sorry!
> 
> But now the semester is over and I'm on break and I can write ALL the fan fiction!! 
> 
> Anywho
> 
> Warning: from here on out the story will contain some content regarding mental illness and things like that, so please be aware of this when you read
> 
> Enjoy <3

11

I Have a Secret

 

            “Eren.”

            A voice. Music. Whispering into my ear.

            “Eren...”

            My name? My name floating around my head in notes of a major key. Ringing like bells in a gentle, soothing breeze.

            “Eren.”

            A light touch on my shoulder. Like a butterfly, making its home there against me. A slight shake in my body. I opened my eyes but closed them again because there was a bright light there in front of me, and it was blinding.

            “Eren.”

            I opened them because I wanted to see where the music was coming from, and where that touch on my shoulder was coming from. I saw his face there in front of me, blurry in the remains of my sleep. So close that I could see the bags under his eyes and the wrinkles in between his eyebrows.

            “Eren, wake up.”

            I obeyed. I opened my eyes all the way and blinked to get myself accustomed to the brightness. Someone must have opened the curtains, letting the winter sunshine filter into the room. Slowly but steadily I was regaining my senses. I was in Levi’s apartment—on Levi’s couch—and Levi was right there in front of me. Saying my name and shaking me awake.

            _What am I doing here again?_

I groaned drowsily, my body craving more sleep, and hugged the pillow (had that been there before?) more tightly.

            “Come on. It’s time to wake up.”

            He was speaking in a tone that I hadn’t heard before. A tone that made me dizzy it was so compassionate.

            “But I’m so sleepy.”

            “I know.”

            Levi moved his hand from my shoulder to my cheek—a move I honest-to-god had not been expecting at all. But I welcomed it. It was warm and soft, and it spread through my body like a virus. I closed my eyes again and willed that he say my name again. I could feel every indentation of his thumb stroking my cheek. I lay like that for an eternity.

            And then I remembered why I was there in the first place.

            “My exam! I’m gonna be late! _Fuck!”_

I bolted up, sending both the blanket (that _definitely_ hadn’t been there before) and the pillow to the floor. Panic replaced any comfort I had been feeling, with my eyes wide and my heart rate going dangerously high.

            “Calm down. You’re not gonna be late. It’s only 7:30.”

            The relief exhausted me again, and I slumped forward. Levi stood up and, as I caught my breath and made sense of my situation, walked around behind the couch to the kitchen. Only then did I notice the sizzling sound, accompanied by the rich smell of vegetables. I stretched my arms out and rubbed my eyes and realized that I must have fallen asleep on Levi’s couch while studying last night. And then I had woken up with a pillow beneath my head and a blanket covering my body.

            “Sorry,” I called, without looking back. I heard him moving around in the kitchen. “I guess I kinda crashed here last night.”

            “It’s fine.”

            “What time did I conk out?”

            “About two.”

            “Damn it. I still don’t feel very ready.”

            “Stressing about it won’t help you now.”

            “Just saying that isn’t going to help me relax, you know,” I said with a grin, though I knew he couldn’t see it. There was something very light, comforting, beautiful—shimmering, even—in the air. I felt as if some divine deity had written long ago that on this particular morning, I was to wake up on Levi’s couch feeling more rested than I had in months, and now I was fulfilling the prophecy. Just a deep, natural sensation.

            A few moments later, Levi made his way around the couch, carrying a plate in one hand and a mug on the other. He put the plate on the table in front of me and held the mug out to me. Wide-eyed and a little thrown off, I grabbed it with both hands. Making sure that my fingers lay atop his for a moment before he let go. He moved them smoothly, slowly beneath mine. I brought the cup to my lips—not tea this time. Warm milk. On the plate was an omelet, stuffed with vegetables and melted cheese.

            “You didn’t have to do all that,” I mumbled, suddenly guilty. I was taking up his space. Breathing his air. Involving myself in his morning. Making him cook for me. Even though I hadn’t asked, and now the thought that he had done it of his own will was making me dizzy.

            “Just eat it. But make sure it’s on the table—I don’t want anything spilling onto the couch, you hear me? Not even a crumb.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            He didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. Relatively, at least.

            The omelet was good. I took a bite as he sat down on the couch beside me, spread his arm out along the back of it, held his own cup. Whether it was milk or tea I wasn’t sure. He was staring straight ahead as he brought it up and down from his lips. Eyes slightly narrowed, like he was thinking very hard about something.

            “You’re not a bad cook,” I said.

            “I’d like to think I’m pretty good, actually.”

            “I would have added bacon.”

            “Disgusting.”

            “You don’t like it?”

            “Not at all.”

            “Wait, don’t tell me—are you _vegetarian?”_ He just glanced over at me with a menacing expression as I let out a burst of laughter. “You _are!_ Jesus Christ.”

            “What of it, brat?”

            “Nothing,” I chuckled. I probably could have guessed it, but I’d never really thought about it before. “Absolutely nothing.”

            There was silence for a few moments before I, of course, felt the urge to keep talking.

            “You’re not gonna have a cigarette?”

            “I don’t smoke before 1:00pm.”

            “Whoa, calm down there, health nut.”

            He put his cup down on the table, lifted his leg, and kicked me. A playful kick, strong enough to nearly send me to the floor but light enough to keep me from flying. I could see from the tension in his lips that he was hiding a smile, and I wished he would just let it happen.

            “Tch. And here I was, thinking that so early in the morning you might shut your mouth,” he growled. I reseated myself on the couch and smiled up at him, leaning my arms on my knees. I was starting to get worried that it would happen again—that I would get drunk on the nearness of him again.

            “Don’t act like you don’t like it when I talk,” I said. Something had changed in me, I felt. Where had I suddenly gained the confidence to speak to him like this? Without getting flustered and nervous and horny?

            He didn’t respond. He just gave me the smallest, most discreet hint of a smile, and went back to drinking his undisclosed beverage.

            Half an hour later, I left, after he suggested I go shower and get ready before my exam. I packed up my stuff and didn’t even want to look in a mirror and see the tragedy that I had become, and realized that I had nearly forgotten about my exam. I had been so caught up in his mere presence. As I was leaving, he came over to the door.

            “Thanks, seriously,” I said, hoping that he could sense the sincerity in my voice. “Helping me study and making me breakfast and stuff...it means a lot.”

            “Don’t mention it. And don’t stress too much about the exam, all right? Trust yourself.” He reached up, as if it were completely normal, and adjusted the collar of my coat. Something that Mikasa might have done, but with a heavier significance now. A tingling magnetism.

            “O-okay...”

            “Go. You smell like eggs and wine.”

            I smiled, and then I took a chance. I leaned down and put a kiss on his cheek, a chaste little peck. When I pulled away, gazing down at his face, my chest swelled up. He had his eyes closed, his head tilted toward the side that I had kissed him on. The furrow in his eyebrows was gone, any tension in his face had evaporated. He looked serene, like that innocent little kiss on his cheek had released him from something heavy crawling through his muscles.

            But it was only for a moment.

            Then he opened his eyes and shooed me away and I was gone, reeling, down the stairs and out to the chilly campus.

            _I want to fall in love with you more than I’ve ever wanted anything._

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Friday after I aced my exam, a group of us decided to have a ‘boys’ night.’ I wasn’t sure what that meant, but Bertholt had seemed very determined to do it. We got as many greasy and fattening snacks as we could and gathered in Reiner’s room, and each one of us was required to bring at least one xBox game. Connie also brought some movies of the crude-humor genre, notoriously his favorite. It was me, Armin, Jean, Marco, Reiner, Bertholt, and Connie, crowding up Reiner’s room and covering his floor with chip crumbs and cursing at each other while we played xBox. I was sprawled out on the floor looking at my phone, and Armin was beside me, smiling and kindly refusing to play the game because, he insisted, he wasn’t very good. Jean was in Marco’s lap (they had officially been together for about a week and a half now) very intensely playing against Reiner, Bertholt, and Connie—Bertholt beating everyone else by a landslide.

            “Hey, Jaeger! Why don’t you try playing me?”

            “Nah, I don’t wanna embarrass you in front of everyone else.”

            “You know what, Jaeger, fu—”

            “Calm down, Jean!” Marco laughed, blowing gently into Jean’s ear.

            The reason I didn’t want to play was not because I was reluctant to knock Jean on his ass. On the contrary, that would have been all the more reason for me to pick up a controller. But I was a little bit distracted—on my phone. Trying discreetly to do something that everybody knew I was doing anyway. Today marked a monumental moment, though: Levi had texted me first. I felt that I had been transported back to high school, when these types of emotions were stirred and you couldn’t get the taste of someone lips off your mouth. What was starting to burden me, though, was that he hadn’t touched me—really _touched_ me—since that day in his apartment. A day that seemed like so long ago. And, of course, I had never gotten the chance to touch him. Of no fault of his, really, but still. Soon I was going to start thinking with the wrong head.

            “Maybe I’ll play later,” I called absentmindedly as I typed a message.

            “As in, when he’s finished sexting his new boyfriend,” Connie snickered.

            “I’ll have you know that I am not sexting, nor is he my boyfriend,” I replied.

            “Yet,” Jean whispered. They were all laughing now, and I scrunched up my nose indignantly. They were as aware as I was of my high-school-crush state.

            “Whatever, fuck you guys.”

            Armin patted my head, a gentle smile on his face. I didn’t mind their teasing too much; it was generally innocuous, and it was comforting to know that this relationship wasn’t completely in my head.

            “Speaking of which, have you fucked _him_ yet?” Jean asked.

            I didn’t reply, as Marco reprimanded Jean for his rather tactless question. But Jean was a pretty tactless person in general. As his roommate, I had grown used to it, even charmed by it a little bit. I didn’t care so much that he had asked. I cared more about the answer.

            “Wait—who are we talking about here?” Reiner called over his shoulder. Though he was loathe to take his eyes from the screen, lest his character be shot down without his knowledge.

            “I didn’t know you were dating someone, Eren,” Bertholt added. He was very easily winning, though he was the most calm of all of us.

            “Well, I’m not really...”

            “I also didn’t know you were gay,” Reiner chuckled.

            “I’m not! I’m just...not straight. I mean, I like both, I don’t care—”

            “All right, well, who is it?”

            “Leeeviiiii,” Jean sang, sticking his tongue out at me when I glared at him.

            “Ackerman? Levi Ackerman?” Bertholt replied. “He’s a senior, right?”

            “Yeah,” I replied bashfully.

            “Nice! Look at you, Eren!” Reiner laughed. “Wait, isn’t that the dude we saw at the gym the other day?”

            “Mhmm.”

            “Levi Ackerman. I’ve definitely heard that name before,” Connie said. He was on his knees now, his fingers crushing the buttons on the controller.

            “Oh, a few people were talking about him in my chem class,” Bertholt began. I knew I shouldn’t engage...why would I want to hear things about Levi behind his back...? But, of course, I couldn’t help sitting up and paying closer attention. Even as Armin furrowed his brow at me.

            “Really? What did they say? When?”

            “A girl was telling her friends about how he...” His voice trailed off and the air got icy. I knew without him having to say it what was coming, but I wanted to hear it anyway. In some unexplainable moment of masochistic tendency.

            “What? About how he what?”

            “Um....” Bertholt looked at Reiner with an anxious expression, but Reiner just shrugged, maintaining his gaze on the screen.

            “It’s fine, just tell me.”

            “They were just talking about, you know, sleeping with him,” he practically mumbled.

            “Oh.” I had seen it coming. “When?”

            “I don’t know, a few weeks ago?”

            “...Oh...”

            _A few weeks ago._

            “B-but it was only for like a week, they said!” he stumbled, as my body grew hot.

            “Guys, let’s talk about something else,” Armin suggested.

            “ _Oh_ , that guy! Yeah, yeah, I heard the same thing from a few dudes in my class, too,” Connie said. Completely absentminded, still playing the game. Unaware of the fact that the color had drained unmercifully from my awed face. Yes, this had most definitely been masochistic.

            _It’s not like this is anything new,_ I thought. Trying to make myself a little less upset. _Mikasa told me. Everyone knows. He sleeps around. He likes to fuck. This isn’t new, this isn’t unexpected, I_ knew _this..._

_Right?_

“Fuck, I lost again! Damn it, Bertholt!”

I lay back down on the ground and pulled out my phone and tried to pretend the entire conversation hadn’t happened—tried to forget the fact that Levi could be fucking someone else at that very moment—and read his messages lighting up my phone. While Armin put his hand gently, almost indiscernibly, on my shoulder.

 __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

            “What am I fucking doing, Armin? I don’t even know anymore.”

            “Do you really want my advice?”

            “Yes.”

            “I think you should just focus on your schoolwork for now—you know, avoid distractions.”

            “Avoid distractions, or avoid _him_?”

            “...Him.”

            I picked up a pebble and threw it into the lake. It was going to snow soon, so Armin and I had bundled up and gone to sit on its banks one last time before the freezing cold could make it impossible. I mindlessly watched it soar, drop, create a tiny splash.

            “I’m sorry, Eren, I just think he’s bad news. I mean, I’m sure he’s a great guy and really smart and all that, but I think he’s bad news for _you_. It seems to me like he’s just leading you on. You’re not the type of guy to just fool around with someone.”

            “No, I know,” I grumbled. He was watching me with those big, concerned eyes of his, hugging his legs to his chest and leaning his cheek on his knees. “Trust me, I know.”

            “But I also understand that just hearing people say it, or even believing it yourself, won’t really change your feelings,” he smiled. “Because that’s how emotions work. They defy logic. Even if you know what you’re getting into, it’s really hard not to when you feel something so strongly.”

            I let out a string of curses under my breath (now visible in the winter air) and threw another rock.

            “What is it about him that attracts you so much?”

            “I don’t know! That’s what fucking bothers me the most,” I cried.

            “Try listing some of his good traits.”

            “Well he looks like a god, for one thing.”

            “Something _besides_ how he looks.”

            “I honestly can’t explain it. Something about the way he carries himself—this kind of aura when he walks into the room. And the way he talks to me, or looks at me, or does anything, really. He makes me feel really...comfortable.”

            “Comfortable? Even after he did that number on you?”

            “I don’t mean comfortable in the traditional sense. I mean, he’s terrifying and he insults me and he yells at me, but it feels natural.”

            “Eren—”

            “He also says really nice things sometimes. And he makes me feel confident in myself somehow. Like I said, I honestly can’t explain it.”

            When I finally glanced over, Armin was staring at me with a furrowed brow and slightly pouty lips. His confused, concerned look.

            “I think you’re in too deep, Eren,” he said.

            “You don’t have to tell me. I already know.”

            “So why do you keep going after this? You heard what Connie and Bertholt said. Exactly what Mikasa warned you about. He’s not committed to you. He sleeps with _everyone_.”

            “Except me.”

            “Right, except yo—wait, what?”

            There was an awkward silence that followed, and I just stared at the glassy water of the frosty lake.

            “We haven’t had sex.” I realized that I hadn’t disclosed any of the really intimate details to Armin. He had probably just assumed.

            “Seriously? You haven’t?”

            I shook my head.

            “That’s another thing that bugs me. Why is he having sex with everybody _but_ me? You know?”

            “Can’t say I do...”

            “I’d fuck him even if he told me straight to my face that he didn’t like me. I wouldn’t care. If he were down, I’d be down,” I said. Ranting now. “And I thought, you know, after what Mikasa said, it’d work out. He’d have sex with me. That’s what the rumors dictate, you know? He sleeps with everyone, he’ll sleep with me, right? But maybe they’re not true. Or maybe he just doesn’t like me. Or maybe he _does_ like me and—”

            “Eren, you’re reading too much into this,” Armin interrupted. “Listen. You’re my best friend, and I won’t stop you from doing what you want. Or... _who_ you want. But you asked for my advice and I’m giving it. I think it’s fine to be friends with him, but anything other than that is dangerous.”

            “Yeah...”

            “You have no idea what he’s thinking, what he might do to you. He could really hurt you. Whether it’s intentional or not.”

            “I...I know.”

            Armin gave me a smile, an attempt to lighten the mood and lift my spirits, and put his hand on my arm for a few moments. Then, another cloud of worry crossed his features. All while the storm continued to rage inside me, spurred forward by the icy breeze.

            “Hey. Eren. I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while,” he began. I knew what was coming. “How are you doing?”

            “Fine.”

            “No, I mean...like...how are you _doing_? Are you still having nightmares?”

            “Sometimes.”

            “How often?”

            “Three, four times a week.”

            “That’s a lot.”

            “Yeah.”

            “Are you still obsessed with reading the paper and watching the news?”

            “Not as much. But I listen to the police radio sometimes.”

            “That’s a little bit better, I guess. Are you taking your medications?”

            “No.”

            “Eren!”

            “Sorry. I know it’s unhealthy. But I’m doing fine without them.”

            “You don’t have to apologize. I just don’t want you to be more stressed than you have to be. I hate seeing you like that.”

            “I think I’m already past that. But thanks.” I tried to smile, but I’m pretty sure it looked more like a half-hearted grimace. “I mean it.”

            Armin was the only person who knew about my anxiety and my ‘obsession’ with the news and the fact that, up until about a year ago, I had had nightmares every single night since I was ten years old. I had gotten good at hiding the weird addiction, the terror of the nighttime images, the occasional breakdowns. In fact, I had gotten so frighteningly good at hiding this secret within myself that I hadn’t had any incidents since starting school. Not a single breakdown.

            (Which is why I haven’t bothered mentioning it until now. I hadn’t even told Mikasa.)

            (Nobody but Armin had a clue.)

            A few minutes later we stood up and, huddling close for warmth, made our way back to the dorms.  


	13. I Discover the Gardens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like dis chapter
> 
> i hope you all do tooooo 
> 
> xoxoxo

**12**

**I Discover the Gardens**

            I lay facedown on my bed, my face smashed against the pillow. I was so disoriented that I could hardly remember my own name. I blinked the sleep from my eyes, and glanced at the clock next to my bed. It was six o’clock at night. I remembered then that I had been binge-watching Game of Thrones and fallen asleep, and was rather satisfied with my impromptu nap. Then I felt an intense discomfort in my lower body, and sucked in a breath. This wasn’t just morning wood—images of my dream flashed behind my eyes. A dream in which I had pushed Levi against the bed beneath me, a dream in which we had desperately torn our clothes our off, a dream in which I had relentlessly fucked him. Thankfully I hadn’t had the chance to come in my dream; otherwise I would’ve had some extra laundry to do.

            My face flushed and drool still running down my chin, I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes. I was hot and sweaty now, and very desperate. I wanted to go wash my face and go to the bathroom, but I knew I needed to take care of this first. I leaned back against the wall and grabbed a towel sitting on my desk, sticking it into my mouth to muffle any sounds I might make. It was only six, and anybody could be walking around. Not to mention how thin these walls were. Then I put my head against the wall and slid my hand into my pants, with Levi’s face in my head.

            When I was done I went to the bathroom, splashed my face with ice water, and took an unusually long piss. I was walking around with a fuzzy mind, completely aimless and tired, but restless and bored. I passed Krista on my way back to my room and was hardly able to say hello through my strange discombobulating state. I’d never had a wet dream like that before. So intensely vivid that it made me truly, genuinely upset to wake up.

            I closed my door and groaned, putting my face in my hands. Mikasa and Armin were both busy, which I didn’t really mind. I needed nights to myself sometimes. But something was squirming around inside my stomach and I couldn’t get it to stop, not even with a Game of Thrones marathon. With a heavy sigh, I collapsed onto the bed again, put on The Smiths, and started nibbling on a chocolate bar (Jean kept a stash that I often stole from).

            Of course I was thinking about what Bertholt and Connie had said. Of course I was thinking about what Armin had said. Of course I was thinking about what Mikasa had said.

            He’s bad news.

            He sleeps around.

            He’s dangerous.

            _He sleeps around, but why hasn’t he slept with me?_

I tried to convince myself that I didn’t care that he was sleeping with other people, but there was no denying that the mere concept was enough to twist my insides into knots and put a terrible, bitter taste on my tongue. Suddenly I was feeling sick to my stomach. I put the half-eaten chocolate bar back on the desk and hugged myself and buried my face in the pillow. I tried to block everything out—even my thoughts—but I couldn’t get his voice out of my head. Saying my name, waking me up in the morning. I wanted his face to be the first thing I saw every single morning.

            As I was beginning to slip back into sleep, there was a jarring knock on the door.

            I had no idea who it could’ve been. I didn’t have plans with anybody, and my friends were busy—though it wasn’t unusual for Armin or Mikasa to show up unannounced. And Jean certainly never knocked when coming in, so it definitely wasn’t him.

            “Door’s unlocked,” I called, without moving from my position on the bed. Hugging the pillow tightly and on my stomach. The door swung open and there stood Levi, arms crossed. I blinked a few times, to make sure that I hadn’t been imagining it—sure enough, it was him. In an oversized sweater that nearly reached his knees, his checkered scarf, black leggings and boots. He was also wearing a hat that came down and covered his ears.

            “Yo,” he greeted. Disoriented and confused and now able to hear my own heartbeat, I jolted up in bed, still grasping the pillow.

            “Levi?” I stuttered. “Uh, hi.”

            “Get ready. We’re going out.”

            “Huh?”

            “I said, _get ready_. And put on something warm. It’s snowing. We’re grabbing the next bus to the city.”

            “W-wait, now?”

            “Jesus, you get more dense every time I meet you,” he sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “Would you rather sit on your ass on a Saturday night?”

            I pouted in response to this stab at my pride, and put my pillow down.

            “I guess not. But do we have to take the bus all the way out?”

            “Yes. I’m getting the fuck out of here, and parking is hell down there,” he said. Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, mumbling, “Still as filthy as ever.”

            I guess I should explain now that the campus of the university was in the suburb of a huge city—one of the biggest in the country. The campus itself was in a pretty relaxed residential area, but thirteen miles south was the city. There was a bus that went from campus to downtown on an hourly schedule, so it was common for students who didn’t have cars (or, apparently, didn’t want to deal with parking) to pay the three dollar fare and take the forty-five minute ride out to the city. I had only been a few times with friends, and to be honest, the city overwhelmed me a little bit. But it was big and exciting and I was sure that, as a senior, Levi had probably gotten to know it rather well at this point.

            “All right. Let me just get dressed...” My voice trailed off as I realized, from the fact that Levi wasn’t even paying attention to me anymore, that he would not be leaving me to change alone. The heat spread throughout my body as I began sifting through my closet and coming to understand that Levi had actually come to my room—had knocked on my door—and was now dragging me out to the city. Only in my wildest dreams had I imagined something like this happening, and I was so confused that I couldn’t even fully enjoy it.

            After a few minutes, of course, the confusion disappeared and I was left in raw, childish ecstasy.

            I took his advice and put on a heavy sweater and my green North Face. I slipped my feet into thick socks and Sperry boots, and made sure I had my wallet, my keys, and my phone. I considered texting Mikasa and Armin for a fleeting moment, and then thought better of it. The entire time that I was dressing, Levi was sitting at my desk, flipping through a book of poetry that I had on my shelf. One of the only pieces of literature I owned. It was a collection of Hermann Hesse poems—a small book that my mother had given me. We didn’t talk as I dressed, letting the music fill the room, and I was certain that if I had opened my mouth, incomprehensible things would’ve emerged.

            “Anybody else coming?” I ventured as I locked my door.

            “No. Why?”

            “Just curious...usually you’re hanging out with Erwin, so I wondered if he’d be coming, too.”

            “Tch.” Levi clicked his tongue and stuck his hands into his pockets as we walked. “He’s busy with frat stuff a lot of the time.”

            The bus stop was a two-minute walk from my dorm, and there was a bit of a line. We both stood beside each other, his head just barely reaching the middle of my neck, with our hands in our pockets to alleviate the cold. It wasn’t completely dark out yet, but it was getting close—it had snowed the day before, so white blankets covered the ground in shimmering sheets. I liked the look of snow a lot. I liked the feeling of falling into a huge pile of it and letting myself sink, heavy and weightless all at once. What I didn’t like was the cold that it brought with it. A shiver washed over my body, and I lifted my shoulders by reflex. When I glanced down, Levi had his entire face buried in his scarf, staring straight ahead with his brow furrowed. As if there were something across the road that was making him very angry.

            “You all right down there?” I snickered.

            “Fuck off.”

            He took the window seat. He leaned his shoulder against the window and brought his knees up against the back of the seat in front of him, snuggling down in the seat. I didn’t say anything, but it was the cutest I’d ever seen him. He still had his face in his scarf, even though we were on the bus already. I stretched my legs out as far as I could and just smiled. This was so simple. The bus started moving, and I considered opening my mouth to say something, but couldn’t bring myself to break the glassy silence. I watched his breaths fog up the window and inched a bit closer—just so that our shoulders brushed.

            “You ever been to the city?” he asked after about ten minutes. His voice sounded tired and soft.

            “A few times. To the big tourist spots, you know.”

            “You ever been to the gardens?”

            “No.”

            “That’s where we’re going.”

            “Sure, that’s fine.”

            “There’s a smoke shop there where I buy my cigarettes.” He paused, and then looked over at me. I was, of course, staring at him. “Do you like pretzels?”

            “Pretzels? Sure, I like pretzels.”

            “They have hot pretzels in the gardens, too.”

            I chuckled softly. Even though the majority of his face was hidden by his scarf and hat, I could see his smile, too.

            He was so quiet for the rest of the ride that I thought he had fallen asleep, but he never did. He would periodically check his phone, diverting his eyes from their place on the window, and then return to his position. I wanted so badly to just wrap my arms around him and let him curl into me instead of against the window.

            The cold was merciless when we got off the bus. My shiver was audible this time, my hands stuck in my pockets, as I stumbled down with Levi at my heels. He began walking down the road, and seemed to know exactly where he was going. I walked beside him and took in the sights of the bustling downtown city as he lit his cigarette. Blew the smoke into the already polluted air. I had grown up in a pretty small town, so the city was breathtaking to me every time I saw it. He must have noticed the expression on my face, though I’m not sure what exactly that was.

            “You really haven’t been here very often, have you?”

            “Nope.”

            “The gardens are about fifteen minutes away. Think you can make it?”

            “Yeah, I can make it,” I said, smiling down at him. He held my gaze and said nothing, did nothing, when I inched closer. “After a few minutes you get used to the cold.”

            “Well maybe if you were well prepared it wouldn’t be so bad,” he sighed. “Come here.”

            The cigarette hanging from his lips, he grabbed me by the shoulders and forced me down until we were eye-level. Then he pulled the hood of my jacket up over my head, tightened it, zipped it up all the way. I couldn’t move, even if I had wanted to.

            “Buy a scarf, yeah?”

            “Y-yeah.”

            “All right, let’s go.”

            We continued walking, and this time I let myself talk. I asked him about certain buildings that we passed, asked him about how many times he’d been to the city, told him about how I had gotten full marks on my econ exam. The entire time we walked our shoulders brushed, two people moving as one among the crowds of college students and adults and children alike navigating the streets of this city. The snow was light as it fell from the darkening sky, but I liked the way they fell upon the surfaces of the world beneath. Like the way I had seen them glistening on Levi’s eyelashes. Or on his fingernails when I watched him bring the cigarette to and from his lips. He knew exactly where he was going and in fifteen minutes, we walked through the gates of the gardens. It was dark by then.

            “Well, here we are. Smoke shop is across the way. Mind if I stop by?”

            “No, of course not.”

            At that particular moment, my stomach decided to growl. He smirked down at it.

            “We’ll feed you, too. Then we can go to the lake. It’s pretty at night.”

            “Sure.”

            There weren’t as many people as I’d been expecting in the gardens, and even in the darkness, I could appreciate the landscaping of it. There were so many different flowers, and hedges that rose up in different shapes—some not trimmed at all—to line the cobblestone paths. It was a labyrinth, with innumerous twists and turns that Levi walked as if he were in his own home. He walked on a mission, listening to me talk incessantly and occasionally checking his phone and, eventually, finding an ashtray to dispel of his cigarette. We emerged on the other side of the gardens, out from the gate, and crossed the street. There was a stairway that led down to a dark-looking shop. Maybe I seemed hesitant to go down, because Levi grabbed my arm as he descended, pulling me gently behind him.

            We were only inside for a few minutes, while Levi bought a very specific pack of cigarettes and made conversation with the cashier. They seemed to know each other. I felt completely lost, gawking at the pipes and the hookahs and the unimaginable number of different cigarettes. Levi again dragged me out, equipped with his new pack of cigarettes. He lit one as soon as we were outside, and then walked me further down the street. Sure enough, there was a vendor selling hot pretzels. Even though I tried to argue, he bought one for himself and one for me. And then we went back into the gardens. He seemed in a rush to get there, dragging me from one place to another like a mother dragging her child through a grocery store. Once we were back in the gardens, however, things slowed down. His steps calmed, his breaths evened out, he sucked in very deliberately in an exaggerated motion from his cigarette. While I nibbled on my pretzel and forgot about the cold.

            “The lake’s over there.”

            I followed him.

            Of course I followed him.

            I’ll never know if he could see the way I was looking at him—maybe he noticed and chose to ignore it. Or maybe he was completely oblivious to the fact that I had not taken my eyes off him. That I was watching every detail of his movements and feeling my heart swell and shrivel up in the same moment. That I was so unbelievably thankful, so happy, so _ridiculously_ terrified that I was there with him. Walking through the gardens of this city with a light snow falling and a darkness embracing us.

            “Any particular reason you wanted to come here?” I asked, my mouth full. “Is it another spot your friend showed you? The one you were telling me about?”

            A smile flashed on his lips.

            “Yeah, actually. She did show me this place. Sometimes I just need to get off campus. Away from all the people there,” he said. His pretzel was much smaller than mine, and even then, he didn’t look like he was going to finish it. “You know what I mean?”

            “Not really...”

            “You will after another year there,” he sighed. He was looking up at the sky as he walked. Without really thinking about it, I weaved my arm through his. He didn’t even flinch. “It gets suffocating in a place like that. With people like that.”

            “Is it something—or someone—specific?”

            “No. Not really,” he said.

            “So...why’d you bring me with you?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly. From the cold, I told myself. “If you wanted to escape so badly, you probably didn’t have to bring me.”

            He shrugged, and then stopped in his tracks. I realized that we’d reached the lake. It was frozen over, though thinly, and it sparkled so beautifully that I had to hold my breath. It wasn’t anything that spectacular, now that I think about it, but something about the entire situation was just awe-inspiring to me.

            “You don’t make me feel suffocated the way they do,” he said quietly. I blinked, unsure that I’d heard him correctly.

            “I what?”

            “You’re so oblivious and innocent. Half of the time you have your head up your ass and no idea what the hell is going on,” he continued, using the same turn of phrase that Mikasa so often used. “It’s refreshing to be with someone who doesn’t have any expectations. Who just goes with the flow. You go with the flow.”

            “Sometimes it’s just easier that way,” I laughed bashfully. He stared out at the lake silently for a few moments, before looking back at me. I still had my arm intertwined with his. His lips turned up into a nearly indiscernible smile.

            “And you’re brave to a fault,” he said.

            “You think?”

            He nodded. Then he looked away and we kept walking.

            We strolled endlessly along the perimeter of the lake (though really it was more of a pond). At least, it seemed endless at the time. Time had stopped. The darkness had overcome my senses and I could no longer sense the cold in my closeness to Levi. I didn’t know what time it was and I didn’t care—not even a little bit. I could have walked like that with him until sunrise, talking about the thoughts that entered my mind.

            “I bet this place is great for picnics in the summer.”

            “Mhmm.”

            “And I bet it’d be great to ice-skate on the lake! It’s probably too thin right now, though.”

            “Mhmm.”

            “I wonder how long the gardeners have to work to get it to look this great. Right? Like, this must take _a lot_ of work.”

            “Mhmm.”

            “You’d think there’d be more people here. I mean, I know it’s cold, but relative to the rest of winter it’s pretty nice. And it’s so gorgeous here that I hardly notice the cold.”

            “Mhmm.”

            “Oh man, Armin would love it here. I’ll have to bring him. Mikasa, too. If there were more snow on the ground I would most definitely lay down. That sounds like a great idea.”

            “Mhmm.”

            “Maybe we can come back later. If you’re not too busy, that is.”

            “Sure.”

            Even though his answers were short and absentminded, I knew that he could hear every word I was saying. Because that’s just how he was.

            Levi was the one to point out that it was getting late when the clock was nearing ten. He suggested we start heading back to the bus stop to catch the 10:20. But as we walked, he stopped, tugging lightly on my sleeve.

            “Eren. I’m tired. I don’t wanna walk anymore.”

            “Oh, all right. There’s a bench—”

            “Crouch down.”

            “Huh?”

            “Crouch.” He tugged harder on my sleeve until I bent my knees and crouched, as he’d ordered. Then, without another word, he wrapped his arms around the back of my neck and hopped up, wrapped his legs around my waist until I supported them with my hands. And then I was giving him a piggy-back ride and he was somehow lighter than I had been expecting.

            “I don’t wanna miss the bus. Let’s go.”

            And, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he leaned his cheek against my shoulder and tightened his grip on my neck. I wondered if he could hear how heavily my heart was beating inside my chest, or how sweaty I’d gotten regardless of the snow that was still falling. I wondered if he could sense the tingles on my skin, the heat in my cheeks, the bliss that was spreading through my veins. I walked forward, toward the bus stop, while he leaned his weight against me and I felt his fingers against my neck, the pressure of his chest on my spine, his quiet breaths by my ear. He felt tired. I could sense it in the weight of his limbs.

            “Doin’ okay?” I asked after a few minutes. We were on the streets now, and I knew we were getting some confused looks from the people walking by, thinking, What do those boys think they’re doing? How old are they?

            Instead of responding, Levi groaned against my shoulder and tightened his grip and I suddenly felt the urge to sob. But I held the confusing, frightening tears back and pursed my trembling lips and kept walking.

            “Tired, huh?”

            I felt him nod and wished that he would blow into my ear.

            “Almost there.”

            I adjusted my grip on his legs, and he squeezed my hips ever so slightly. Making my mind go fuzzy for a few moments. I was worried that I was gong to just fall to my knees. Fall to my knees and hold him against me and never move, there in the streets of that city, where people would walk over us and around us and mumble about us and we wouldn’t care at all and let ourselves be covered by the falling sheets of snow.

            But I didn’t.

            I kept walking until we were at the bus stop.


	14. I Make My Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "But," you ask, "where is the smut?" 
> 
> it's here. 
> 
> tis my warning.
> 
> xoxo

**13**

**I Make My Sacrifice**

 

            We stood at the bus stop, Levi on my back. He didn’t get down—in fact, he might have even held onto me more tightly when we stopped. And, before the bus arrived, he did something I hadn’t been expecting. With one hand steadying himself on my shoulder, he reached into his coat pocket and whipped out his phone. Then he put his chin against my shoulder and held his phone out in front of us and turned on the camera. I just barely had the chance to smile the kind of smile that was much too giddy, much too unrestrained, would make me embarrassed in the future, before he took the picture. Even though he didn’t smile for the photo, he had at least relaxed the muscles of his face. Had released all the tension and looked, if for a split second, serene and content and so unfairly beautiful.

            “You like to take selfies?” I teased as he put his phone back in his pocket.

            “When I look good. Sometimes you just have to indulge yourself,” he replied.

            A few minutes later the bus arrived, and I lowered him to the ground. My body suddenly felt hollow without him there, and the cold that had dissipated from the moment he had climbed onto my back returned with ungracious fury. But within a few minutes we were back on the bus, in this stale warmth. He sat at the window again. I slumped down in the seat and pulled out my own phone. As the bus began to pull out, I nudged him and held out one of my headphones. A rarity for me, since I was rather possessive about my headphones. They were the unnecessarily expensive kind. I didn’t need to say anything to him. He took it and put it into his ear, and then I put the other one into mine. I handed him my phone and told him that he could pick any music to listen to. He picked Amazarashi, a Japanese band that was one of my favorites. I slumped down even further until our shoulders were level. The bus rocked back and forth along the highway and I closed my eyes and felt its rhythm, and let my head fall upon his shoulder.

            For a second, I felt his muscles tense up when I lay my head there. Like he was somehow surprised, or reluctant. Which confused me; he was the one who had been giving me signs all night, had dragged me out of bed with him to the city, had forced me to give him a piggy-back ride. So why could I feel such tension, such restraint, when I put my head against his shoulder?

            After a moment the tension passed (though its memory remained clear in my head), and I relaxed. And in a minute I was asleep. 

* * *

 

            “Oi. Wake up. We’re here.”

            There was a light nudge on my shoulder, and I opened my eyes. The bus had stopped, and people were getting off. My head was still pressed to his shoulder, but he had taken the headphones out and his face was so close to mine that I could smell the tobacco on his breath. I smiled, an involuntary movement of my lips, before I sat up and stretched my arms out. He pushed against me, urging me to get off, and together we got off the bus and found ourselves in the cold of our college campus. And I wondered if that was it. In my grogginess I couldn’t quite read his reactions, couldn’t quite get an idea of what he wanted from me at that point. I wiped my cheek, covered in the markings from his jacket. I had really been out.

            He lit a cigarette almost as soon as we were off the bus. It was apparent that he hadn’t slept at all on the ride back, which was a surprise to me, considering how he had forced me to essentially carry him back to the bus stop.

            “Is your roommate in tonight?” he asked. I shrugged. “I’m coming back to your room.”

            “Oh. Yeah, sure...” I stared at him for another few silent moments. My mind was trying to grasp onto his words but seemed unable to do it. I wasn’t comprehending what he was saying to me, even as he said it so plainly.

            “I don’t wanna go back to my place yet,” he continued. Some kind of explanation? He had already proven to be poor at those. “I just can’t stand the air there right now.”

            He checked his phone, but only for a split second, before shoving it back in his pocket.

            “So I’m coming back to your room with you.”

            So he came back to my room with me.

            He took off his shoes as soon as he walked in and left them by the door, while I took off my jacket and asked him if he had any music requests. He told me to play more of The Smiths. I obeyed without batting an eyelash. I sat down on my bed and tinkered around on my computer while he gracefully slipped out of his jacket and hung it on my desk chair, rubbed his hands together, and took off his hat. He took off his scarf, too, and then leaned his head back in an innocent stretch. I watched his neck elongate, saw the paleness of his skin illuminated by even the poor lighting of my dorm room. I gripped my computer more tightly and curled my toes in, forcing myself to sit cross-legged and lean back against the wall.

            “I wish I had something to offer you,” I said awkwardly. He had his hands in his pockets and was leaning against the desk, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. “All I have is chocolate, but I know you don’t like that.”

            “Don’t worry about it.”

            “Um...make yourself comfortable. I know it’s not the cleanest—”

            “To say the least.”

            “—but I just washed my bed sheets?”

            He glanced over at me with narrowed eyes. And then he just walked over and sat beside me on the bed, stretching his short legs out so that his feet just barely hung over the edge of the bed. Now he was very close to me and the temperature in the room went up significantly. I tried not to look at him for too long by scrolling through my Facebook feed, but I wasn’t sure why I was trying to hide my infatuation. He knew how I felt about him, probably knew that my pulse was abnormally fast, that the red in my cheeks was not from the cold outside. One thing about Levi was that he was undeniably aware of himself and others and there was no point in trying to hide how I felt.

            “Do you and your roommate get along?” he asked.

            “Yeah. He’s kind of a tool, but he’s all right. Who was your roommate first-year?”

            “Erwin.”

            “Oh. How did you two meet, anyway? I guess I never asked. Just randomly roomed together?”

            I put my computer on my desk.

            “No. We knew each other beforehand.”

            “High school friends?”

            “Sure.”

            I knew he was lying, but if he didn’t want to talk about it then I didn’t want to pry.

            “What about Hanji?”

            “I met them here. Petra and Mike, too.”

            “Oh, cool.”

            The conversation dropped off. Not because I didn’t have anything to say. But because Levi was close to me and his eyes looked very bright. I was unable to look away for a long enough period of time to formulate words that might have led to anything comprehensible. He was staring straight ahead, tapping his fingers lightly against the bed to the beat of the music. It didn’t seem like he was thinking about anything. There was just a glazed look of perfect apathy on his face. Unable to hold back, the tingles in my fingertips controlling my movements, I reached over and put my hand on his.

            He didn’t withdraw.

            But he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall and the picture of him like that was enough to send me soaring. I squeezed his fingers in mine and took a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm my racing heart. Everything was becoming jumbled in my brain in the midst of his image there. I was falling deeper into this abyss of terrible, exciting passion. I wasn’t sure where it led or whether I’d ever see light again if I fell into it. I opened my mouth.

            “Levi,” I said, my voice frightened as it quaked. “Levi, what are you doing?”

            He didn’t have to ask to understand what I meant. As I crushed his fingers in mine he heaved a great sigh and opened his eyes to look at the ceiling. But he didn’t answer me.

            “What exactly do you want from me?”

            I said it very softly, more softly than even I had been expecting. His eyelids fluttered then, and he looked at me without moving his head. Letting me squeeze his hand. His fingers were so cold. When his eyes met mine, an alien force dug its way into my skin, my nerves, my mind—my everything. I took his hand and brought it up to my lips and just held it there, with a strange sense of urgency. A desperation. He let out a soft sigh, and I pressed my lips more tightly. Then I felt him shift his position and grasp onto my hand, too.

            “Levi...” I said again. I turned my gaze up to him again, and he was still looking right at me. If a bolt of lightning had erupted through my room at that moment, I would not have flinched. If a plane had crashed two meters away, my eyes would have remain fixed to his. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered.

            In some strange, unexpected turn of fate, he kissed me first.

            It was a peck, nervous and restrained and it awoke within me the desires I had forced to lay dormant for too long. When he pulled away I followed, reaching for him—reaching deeper into that abyss.

            One hand still grasping his and the other at his neck, I leaned forward and I put my lips to his.

            We were slow at first. I wasn’t sure why—we had done this before. We had kissed before. Our tongues had met before. This was nothing new, so I wasn’t sure why it felt so new to me. And maybe to him. I’ll never know how he felt about it.

            I pushed him back against the wall and opened my mouth, while he grasped at my wrist and met me with his tongue. Warm and wet, twisting and turning with mine as I pushed more deeply into him. I wanted to know every detail of the inside of his mouth. I wanted to feel the grooves in his teeth, the dents in the roof of his mouth, beneath his tongue and deep, deep, to the edges of his throat. I moved my fingers into his hair and breathed out into him, and his sigh reverberated throughout my shaking body. We pulled away for a moment then, our open mouths brushing. I was still intertwining my fingers in his hair, still pressing against him. As I stood still, he reached his tongue out into my open mouth and ran it along my lower lip, slowly and deliberately, before coming down on it gently with his teeth. I heard myself groan and lean into him, my eyes fluttering closed. I fell into him again, this time more desperate. I had my chest to his now, and could feel there the muffled groan he released into my lips.

            As I pressed my lips down to his lower lip, his upper lip, opened wider and pushed deeper, I slid my hand beneath his sweater and put my palm to his skin. He breathed in and let himself fall further back against the wall, and I moved my hand up. I could feel the outlines of his muscles—the same ones I’d drooled over when I’d first laid eyes on him—and traced them with my fingers.

            _More._

_I need more._

I moved my mouth to his neck, just beneath his chin, and sucked on his skin there. Pressed my desperate tongue and heard him sigh. It made me tremble. His hand crept up to the back of my head, knotting in my hair.

            “Eren...” he murmured, setting my body on fire. “Eren, wait.”

            At that, I pulled away instantly. There was a strange twinge of something in his voice.

            “What? What’s wrong?” I asked, suddenly so anxious that the world was spinning. “Did I do something?”

            “No, just—”

            “Wait...are you clean?”

            “Fucking brat, _yes_ I’m clean.”

            “Then what?”

            He lowered his head and looked into my eyes. My face was still so close to his, our chests pressed together, his hand on the back of my head and mine beneath his sweater. When he spoke again, his voice was at a whisper, and that frightened me.

            “Are you sure you want to do this?”

            “Are you seriously asking me that?” I said with a disbelieving smile. “Of course I’m sure.”

            “Just listen to me,” Levi continued. “Whatever happens, I can’t be committed to you. I can’t fall in love with you, Eren.”

            “You...what?”

            “Don’t get attached, because you’ll just end up getting hurt,” he said. My mind was fuzzy now. “Even if I sleep with you tonight, it doesn’t mean I’m going to stop sleeping with anybody else. And I want you to know, right now, that this relationship won’t go anywhere. Whatever happens, it’s just _now_. All right?”

            I realized that exactly what I had said to Armin earlier was coming true.

            _“I’d fuck him even if he told me straight to my face that he didn’t like me. I wouldn’t care.”_

            We stared at each other in this tense, cold silence. I wasn’t sure how to respond, wasn’t sure what to say in the face of someone I’d been dreaming of for so long telling me that there was no future, no hope. And yet he spoke while his lips hovered above mine and I could smell the remains of cigarettes and black tea on his breath.

            “I can’t fall in love with you,” he repeated, “but I won’t stop if this is what you want.”

            “Yes,” I heard myself say. He blinked. I slowly, slowly, slowly leaned forward and kissed him. “Yes.”

            I squeezed his fingers and put my lips to his jaw.

            “I don’t care,” I continued, as he leaned his head back again and let my mouth traverse the map of his skin. “I don’t care.”

            “I’m going to hurt you, Eren.”

            “Hurt me. Throw me to the ground and step all over me. Bring me to my knees and spit in my face—do whatever you want with me,” I murmured. “If I can have you, even if it’s just for this moment, do whatever you want.”

            As I released myself to him, he released himself to me and received my self-sacrifice.

            I pushed his sweater up higher until I pulled it up over his head and tossed it to the foot of the bed. I ran my hands along his intricate tattoos and defined chest. Then I pulled away and lifted my own shirt up, revealing my (way less toned) chest. We were both breathing heavily at that point, and he was gazing into me unflinchingly. Before I could move to kiss him again, he put his hands against my chest and pushed me until I was on my back and he was on top of me, his legs on either side of me and hand in the center of my chest. Instinct began to control me as I pushed my hips up into his, and a grin pulled at the corners of his lips. I smiled back. He moved his hand up along my skin, from the center of my chest up to my neck, and ran his index finger along my chin. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth as he touched my lower lip, pushing my head down against the pillow. Then he sat down more heavily on my hips and I rose up like a rock beneath him. I lifted my shaky hands and put them on his legs and squeezed, and while my eyes were still closed, he leaned down and kissed me.

            Then his lips were at my neck and my consciousness seemed ephemeral.

            Then his hands were undoing my belt, unzipping my pants, sliding them down.

            “So eager...” he murmured against the skin of my chest, slipping his hand into my boxers. I gasped and bit my lower lip as he grabbed my cock and traced patterns on my chest with his tongue.

            “Fuck,” I sighed, squeezing his legs more tightly. Since the moment he had walked into my room, I hadn’t been in control. He had been in control the whole time. There was nothing I could do now to stop the flow of events, even if I had wanted to.

            He ran his hand along my shaft and made me gasp again, eyes now wide open. Before I could realize what was happening, he had taken off his own pants and boxers and was wearing nothing but his socks now. I looked down at him and saw his erect cock and suddenly my room was a sauna. I propped myself up on my elbows and he looked up at me, his hand still warm and clammy around me. There must have been a strange expression on my face, one that even I was unaware of, because he paused when he met my eyes.

            “What? What’s wrong?” he asked.

            “...Nothing,” I whispered. “Nothing’s wrong. Nothing at all.”

            I felt the frightening sensation of temporariness. Everything was fleeting. I brought my hand up to his cheek and ran my thumb along his skin. He didn’t move. He didn’t look away. He didn’t respond. He just let me touch him.

            “Kiss me,” I said. “Please.”

            Letting go of me, he leaned forward and kissed me, hands on my hips. He kissed me hard. I put my hands on the small of his back and pulled him more tightly against me, until I felt my lips might be crushed. Then, as I fell back against the pillow once more, he grabbed his own cock as well as mine, and brought them together. The sensations erupted and I heard myself groan as my back arched above the bed. His lips were there above mine, not quite kissing me but still there, teasing me with that sensual smirk of his. I reached my tongue up until it met his and we breathed into each other and rubbed against one another and emotions and physical sensations and absolutely everything I had ever felt in my life exploded within me.

            We fell together in a mess, a tornado, a completely ravaging storm, that made the bed shake and the very earth tremble. He let my fingers explore his every crevice, map out his body on their tips, and I let his fingers do the same. When he sighed in my ear, bit down lightly against it, I went blind. When I put my hand to his cock and pulled it against mine and he cried out, face upturned and fingers in my hair, I went deaf. When he moaned into my mouth and gripped my tongue in his, it was destroyed and I went mute. When we had both come and were laying in each other’s trembling arms in my bed, naked (except for his socks) and tired and too warm for winter, my soul went numb, and I knew that my sacrifice was done and I was completely, utterly, irreversibly his.  


	15. I Dream of A Bird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not much to say about this one
> 
> i really hope you guys are enjoying it! 
> 
> xoxo

**14**

**I Dream of A Bird**  

            As it turned out, Levi preferred being the little spoon (though I was to learn later that Hanji was the exception, because they refused to be the big spoon). At least, I assumed that he did, because I soon found him with his back against my chest and his hands pulling my arms around him. I let him lead me wherever he wanted me to go. I intertwined my legs with his beneath the covers and put my lips to the back of his neck and smelled his hair and blew into his ear, while I wavered between being awake and being asleep. I felt the warmth of his fingers on my wrists, the smoothness of his legs, the way his body moved in my arms with his steady breaths. I was absolutely incapable of doing anything but hold him and fall asleep knowing that he was comfortable in my arms at that moment. While he leaned into me and we burrowed under the covers.

            When I woke up who knows how long later, I was alone in bed, hugging the covers to my chest. My eyes fluttered open, and I realized that it must have been very early—the sun was still rising, so the dappled light wafting into the room was dim and heavy. Without moving my exhausted body, my eyes scanned the room. Jean must not have come back; his bunk was empty. Not a single light was on, so it took me a few moments to adjust to the darkness. This was my room, just as I had left it. But there, by the window, I saw a silhouette. Leaning against the walls, arms crossed, neck turned so that he was looking out of the window at the sunrise. In that milky orange light, I saw his face. Forlorn. Eyes blinking slowly, mouth still, soft. So unbelievably beautiful. Staring out at something he couldn’t reach there beyond the window, beyond the horizon, even. Behind any distance that he might conceivably trek. I had never seen anybody look more lost. After a few moments the figure turned, gently, to face me. I blinked, still half-conscious.

            He walked from the window to the edge of the bed and knelt beside it and, without a word, put his hand on my head and brought his forehead to mine. I closed my eyes and breathed. His fingers ran through my hair, and I was vaguely aware of him whispering something to me in a voice dripping with melancholy, though I couldn’t make out what it was.

            Then I was asleep again, and I didn’t remember it at all the next day.

            _I don’t want to lose you._

* * *

 

The next time I woke up, sunlight was pouring in and I knew it was at least noon. Levi was gone. I stretched my bare arms and rolled over, kicking the comforter off, and grabbed my phone. He had left me a message saying that he was going back to his apartment but didn’t want to wake me. I stared at the screen, stared at his name shimmering there, and then I closed my eyes and drew deep breaths to remind myself that last night had not been a dream. Levi had come to my room, and we had rolled around in these sheets together. It had been as real as my rapid heartbeat, as real as the heat I was feeling in every crevice and on every surface of my body. Then, grinning and as giddy as a child, I responded to his message thanking him and asking if he wanted to get dinner later. I hoped that, even just through text message, he’d be able to feel my sincerity.

            I got up and before I could stop myself began jumping around the room in my boxers. I clenched my hands into fists and my smile spread from ear to ear and I leaped, jumped, spun because I wasn’t sure what else to do with the raw energy that was now pulsing through me. I closed my eyes and saw his face there, and when I breathed in I smelled the scent from his hair, the same scent I’d smelled when I’d buried my face in it. My fingers were clammy and his sighs were still crashing like cymbals in my ears.

            Heart still racing, I ran to take a shower, thankful that Jean was not around. I realized, feeling the water rush over my skin, that I was unbelievably hungry. I called Mikasa and Armin as soon as I got out, asked them if they wanted to get lunch with me, and got dressed. A few minutes later they were at my door as if they had been just waiting for me to text them, and it was clear to me that Mikasa had just come from the gym. When I saw them there, I felt the sudden urge to tell them everything—the words were eagerly sitting on my lips. But I caught myself, realizing that perhaps it would be a bad idea. I knew that neither of them approved of my relationship (whatever it was) with Levi, so I decided to hold my tongue. For now, at least. We went to the dining hall for lunch.

            “How was your night?” Armin asked.

            “Fine. Yours?”

            “Exhausting. I had a paper due. Who assigns a paper due at midnight on a Saturday?”

            “Your professor, apparently. What about you, Mikasa?”

            “Sasha dragged me to a party,” she said, rather resentfully, though her face betrayed nothing. “I wouldn’t have gone, but I knew she was going to get drunk and would need somebody to take care of her.”

            “Aw, look at what a good friend you are. Did you at least have fun?”

            “No.”

            “All right.”

            “What did you do last night?” Armin continued. I stared down at my scone and gave a hasty, half-assed shrug.

            “Mm, nothing, just watched some Game of Thrones,” I lied.

            “Oh. Cool.”

            When I looked back up, I was hit with Mikasa’s steely gaze boring into me. She knew I was lying. I was struck with the terrible fear that she was going to press me further, but thankfully, she let it drop. Though it was frightening enough knowing that she could see straight through me—and probably knew exactly what I had been doing last night. Or, at the very least, had a vague idea. I looked away as Armin began to speak about his paper and checked my phone every few moments, waiting for his name to pop up on my screen.

            It finally did a few hours later, while I was doing homework in the library with Jean (we motivated each other to study pretty well). As I hastily picked up my phone to read the message and Jean pretended not to notice the red in my cheeks, my stomach turned. I tried to keep my composure, to not let the disappointment be displayed for the world to see on my face. I just stared at it for a while, blinking.

            “Psst. Everything okay?”

            I glanced up and saw Jean staring at me, face hidden behind his book. I blinked again and nodded. I was afraid that if I spoke, my lie would be clear in my trembling voice.

            _“Sorry. I’m busy tonight. And actually I’m going on a trip with Erwin for the next two weeks so I won’t be able to hang out. Text me if you need anything. And don’t forget to buy a scarf.”_

Two weeks? He would be gone for two weeks? What sense did that make? It was just like that time, earlier in the semester, when he had disappeared without a word for three weeks and I couldn’t even get a hold of him. At least this time, I told myself, he might respond to me. A consolation prize of sorts. I considered responding by asking him what he would be doing and where, but I thought better of it, knowing that it would just irritate him and I wouldn’t get an answer either way.

            Though my curiosity was at dangerous levels now.

            I, a bit angrily, stuffed my phone back in bag and went back to studying. I knew Jean was still looking at me, but I ignored his questioning looks. I wanted to figure out what Levi was doing—surely it had something to do with his relationship with Erwin, and the conversation I had overheard after dinner at their place last week. Maybe it also had something to do with the phone calls he was constantly receiving. I flashed back to when we had been in his car, and he had been so deliberately ignoring Erwin’s phone calls.

            I couldn’t even begin to guess what was going on.

* * *

             I dreamt of Levi that night. It wasn’t a wet dream—we weren’t doing anything with each other. It was strange and simple in the way that dreams usually aren’t. I wouldn’t have been embarrassed to tell him about this dream. We were at the top of that hill, the one he had taken me to, and he was smoking a cigarette. Just as he usually was. His legs were dangling over the edge and he was staring out at the horizon. A bird with shimmering black fingers flew by and he reached out, as if to touch it, but it floated just out of his grasp. I wanted to reach out and grab it for him, but it was much too far for me at that point, so I remained still. I opened my mouth and tried to say something to him but my voice was caught and I was forced into silence. I reached out to touch him but my limbs were frozen and I was paralyzed.

            He turned and faced me and then he smiled. It was a sad smile. Terribly sad. There were tears in his eyes and, though I had never seen him make that face before, I felt that I had. I felt that I recognized this expression in him. He opened his lips and began to speak to me but I could hear nothing. I didn’t know what he was saying, but that didn’t seem to matter. What mattered was that he was speaking to me and smiling at me. He reached his clammy hand out and touched my cheek. I couldn’t feel his touch. I wanted so badly to feel it. Then, lips now tight and smile wavering, Levi turned away and stood up. I looked up at him. Then he spread his arms out like wings and turned his face up to the sky and fell forward, off the edge of the hill.

            As if believing he could fly with those wings tattooed on his back. 

* * *

 

            I was distracted during class for the next week, pushing back the urge to text Levi (there was a limit even to my desperation) and reliving the strange images of my dream. I was taking strange comfort in my conversations with Armin and Mikasa. They were keeping me grounded. After class on Friday, I walked to a small clothing store outside campus and bought a scarf, remembering Levi’s ordered; I wasn’t really sure what fashion would have dictated, so I just bought a simple red one that caught my eye when I walked in. Sure enough, it made me much warmer. I spent the rest of the afternoon reading through the book of German poems and trying to write a few German lines, in an inexplicable desire to remember this language that had once been my first. Well, kind of. My mother had spoken it to me when I was a child and my father had spoken English and so I had learned the two together. It came back to me with relative ease.

            I wanted to go back to the hill and lay in the grass and remember Levi’s scent.

            In a unique and welcome turn of events, I ran into Hanji in the dining hall at dinner. I decided that this might be my chance to break into the enigma of Levi’s life, even a little bit. We sat in a small table in the back corner, next to a window where we could glance out and see the blankets of snow and crystalline flakes sticking to the window. It was starting to snow more and more often.

            “So, how’re you doing?” they asked, taking a sip of coffee.

            “I’m okay.”

            “Still surviving? I know as a first-year it can be tough.”

            “Yeah, classes are fine.”

            “That’s good to hear.” They smiled a big smile and glanced out the window. “You should come back and have dinner with us soon.”

            “Sure. That sounds nice.”

            “Great. Hmm.” They looked back at me and tilted their head with narrowed eyes. I tensed in my seat. “I hope this doesn’t sound too forward, but you seem a little...how should I say this...distracted.”

            “No, it’s not too forward. I mean, you’re right.”

            “I don’t know you too well, but is there anything I could do to help?”

            I tried to figure out how to word my questions. There was no really subtle way to do it, no way to make it seem normal. Then again, Hanji was far from normal, and if anyone could help me it was them.

            “Um, actually...” I paused, suddenly terrified into silence for a moment beneath their wide-eyed, expectant gaze. “Actually, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something.”

            “Oh! Do you want to hear the results of my tests? You do, don’t you?”

            “W-well—”

            “You’ll be happy to know that everything is perfectly normal so far, but I have to run some more,” they continued. “Probably another few weeks before I’ll have definitive results.”

            I had no idea what they were talking about, and I didn’t want to know what they were doing with that strand of hair they had snagged from my head, so I changed the subject as quickly as possible.

            “N-no, that’s not it. I want to talk to you about...about Levi.”

            They raised their eyebrows.

            “Levi? What about him?” they asked. I was racking my brain desperately now, trying to find a way to subtly ask about something that was impossible to ask about subtly.

            “Do you, I don’t know...do you know where he is?” I blurted. “I mean, he told me he’d be gone for a few weeks but I don’t know where he is and I was wondering if you knew.”

            Hanji stared down at their plate of food and suddenly fell silent. A rarity for them. It was as if a cloud had gathered above us, raining down austerity. The new ominous atmosphere made my hair stand on end.

            “I honestly don’t know,” they said. “But don’t worry. He’ll be back. He always comes back.”

            “You really don’t know anything? I mean, you’re his roommate...” I began, but then bit my tongue. “B-but I don’t wanna be pushy or anything.”

            “No, it’s fine, you have a right to be curious. I really don’t know anything, but if I did, his life really isn’t mine to talk about.”

            I felt dejected now, even more hopeless than before, and slumped down in my seat.

            “Sorry. I don’t mean to pry,” I continued, “but this isn’t the first time it’s happened and...I’m just curious, I guess.”

            “Do you mind if I ask _you_ something now?”

            “Oh, uh, sure.”

            “How do you feel about him? About Levi?”

            “I wish I knew,” I sighed. “I...I like him. A lot. And I like being around him. But I feel like I don’t know anything about him and that’s a little scary.”

            “Try a lot scary,” they laughed. “But that’s how Levi is. Being with him is scary.”

            “How did you two meet?”

            “We were in a political science class together first year. I was taking it just to fulfill a requirement. He was kind of standoffish. He wouldn’t talk to anybody and he sat by himself in the back and he had this cloud over him all the time.” Hanji grabbed a spoon and began mixing the remaining liquid of their coffee, which didn’t need any mixing. “But there was something about him. I can’t tell you what it was. I really don’t know. But anyway, I decided that I wanted to be friends with him—and he seemed pretty lonely, actually. So I introduced myself and stuck to him until he acknowledged me as a friend.”

            “Wow.”

            “But I realized pretty quickly the kind of guy that he is,” they smiled. “After he opened up to me a little bit, he started making more friends. Though he spent most of his time with Erwin. Anyway, it was clear to me that he was the type of guy who was capable of sacrifice.”

            “Capable of sacrifice?”

            “Yeah. I’ve never known anybody who cares about the people close to him more than Levi.”

            “...Really?”

            They nodded, looking me dead in the eyes.

            “He’ll do anything for the people he loves. Anything. But he’s gotten really good at pretending he doesn’t care.”

            “Yeah,” I replied.

            “I think it’s because pretending you don’t care makes the burden a little lighter. And he’s used to it now. But don’t be deceived. Levi is the most loyal person I know.”

            I hadn’t been deceived in the first place, but I hadn’t really thought about this. And I certainly hadn’t been expecting Hanji to tell me that Levi was the most loyal person that they knew. Perhaps that was part of why I had been so drawn to him—why I felt a strange comfort in being by his side, even when he scoffed at me and brushed me off.

            “He’s a good friend to have,” Hanji said. “I can speak from experience.”

            I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just gave an awkward nod.

            “But, between me and you, I don’t think he’s like this by nature.” Hanji lowered their voice slightly.

            “What do you mean?”

            “He’s never really opened up about his past, but I think something happened that’s made him this way,” they said. “I mean, he knew Erwin even before he came here, right?”

            “Right.”

            “And he’s closer to Erwin than he is to anyone. I think if Erwin told him to jump off a bridge, he’d do it in a heartbeat.”

            “Seriously?”

            “Yup. I’m not sure what the story is, but I think Levi is very, very scared.”

            “Scared...?”

            “Of losing the people he loves. Of something in his past catching up to him. Not sure.”

            “Oh...”

            “ _Shit_ , don’t tell him I said that!”

            _Levi. Scared._

_Of what?_

_What terrible thing could have happened in his past?_

_What kind of dark secrets is he hiding?_

Suddenly, Mikasa’s voice rang out in my head. Her words, the ones I’d heard when we’d first met, came back to me in a rush of heat and fear.

            _“There are a lot of skeletons in his closet you don’t want to see.”_    

My stomach was churning and my mind was racing and I my heart was going to burst and I felt very alone and very nervous. The feeling of being too deep, of biting off more than I could chew, crashed over me like a pile of bricks, until I was broken and suffocated.

            I wanted out.

            But I was in too deep now. Way too deep. My tongue yearned for his taste and my ears yearned for his voice and my skin yearned for his touch—I wanted him so badly that it hurt.

            I texted Mikasa and asked if I could stay the night at her place, because I knew she’d be the voice of reason that I needed. The one thing that might help calm my nerves, even if the words she said weren’t the words I wanted to hear. 


	16. I Read More German Poetry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't even know what im writing anymore 
> 
> logic? what is that? i don't think i know what that word means?! 
> 
> anyway, enjoy this chapter <3
> 
> xoxo

**15**

**I Read More German Poetry**

            The floor of Mikasa’s room might as well have been my bed at that point in the semester, I was there so often. I was sitting, cross-legged, leaning back against the bed. She had her hands on my shoulders and was giving me an impromptu massage, digging in her fingers and forcing my muscles to relax. She had agreed to let me stay the night, though she couldn’t promise that Sasha would be out. I didn’t mind. Sasha was nice and I had always been impressed by her ability to eat twice her weight in one sitting. As Mikasa massaged me, I leaned my head back against her legs and stared up at the ceiling. I wanted to talk, wanted to vent, because she was a good listener and usually wouldn’t give me unwanted advice unless I asked for it. But I couldn’t think of anything to say. Talking with her about Levi always led down the same path, and I was not in the mood for that conversation.

            “What are you thinking about?” she said, her voice as smooth as ever. I opened my eyes and looked up at her. She was staring at me, her eyes soft. “You seem stressed and your muscles are really tense.”

            “I am stressed. Just school, I guess.”

            “Mhmm.”

            She knew I was lying, and I knew that she knew. There was a strange, mutual knowing between us that did not make me feel any less stressed.

            “Tell me about your day.”

            “Went to class. Went to dinner. Bumped into Hanji. Came here.”

            “Boring.”

            “As always.”

            “Doing well in class?”

            “Yeah, thanks to you.”

            “True.”

            I stuck my tongue out while she smirked, and then dug her fingers deeper. I took a deep breath and settled further in my seat, letting the relaxation pulse through my body. But when I closed my eyes I, inevitably, saw Levi’s face there. Smiling, and I realized then that he and Mikasa had smiles that were terribly similar.

            “Hey, Mikasa.”

            “What’s up, babe?”

            “You’ve never told me about your family.”

            Her fingers stopped.

            “You’ve never told me about yours, either,” she said quietly. I opened my eyes and glanced at her. She was staring into the center of my shoulder blades, but her gaze wasn’t focused. A shadow crossed her features and I regretted, with a churning of my stomach, bringing it up. But I wanted to know.

            “Do you want to hear about it?” I said. She blinked.

            “Only if you want to talk about it.” Her fingers moved from my shoulders to my hair, and she began to smooth out the knots. Her fingers felt nice against my scalp. “Do you want to talk about it?”

            “Yes.”

            _No. Yes. Do I?_

            “Okay. Tell me about your family, Eren.”

            “My parents are German. They moved here from Munich after they got married, before I was born. But my dad left when I was only four and I hardly remember him.”

            “Why did he leave?”

            I shrugged. This wasn’t what I had really planned to happen. But maybe this burden had been sitting on my chest for a while and I hadn’t even noticed, and now the words were flowing very naturally out of mouth. The last person I had talked about my family with was Armin. He was the only other person who knew, but we had been friends since elementary school. At least talking about my family would help me not think about Levi. At the very least.

            “Mom never told me.”

            “What’s your mother like?”

            My heart began to twist and turn and I felt pain gushing in rivulets through my chest, but I wanted to keep talking. I wanted to talk about this with Mikasa. I wanted her to know. It was only fair that she know about my family, my history, if I wanted to know about hers.

            “Beautiful,” I began, my voice soft. Her fingers became more gentle in my hair. “People say that I look exactly like her, except darker, I guess. She made a lot of sacrifices for me. She was smart and ambitious and she worked unbelievably hard for me. Even when she was angry with me, or punishing me, I could feel how much she loved me. That kind of mom. You know?”

            “Sure.”

            “She used to speak German to me. I didn’t know any English until I went to school and was kind of forced to learn.” I hugged my knees to my chest and smiled. I couldn’t hold it back as the memories flooded in. “She would read to me before bed, even when I got older and told her I didn’t need bedtime stories. She still read to me. But she always read to me in German. Never English. Whenever she spoke it she had a really heavy accent and I used to tease her for it.”

            “Do you know German, then?”

            “Sure. I haven’t spoken it in a while. I’m worried I'll forget it, so I’m trying to refresh it.” I leaned over and reached into my backpack, where I had been recently keeping the Hermann Hesse poem collection. I showed it to her, and then opened it up to a random page. “Hermann Hesse was my mom’s favorite.”

            “Can you read it to me? In German?” she asked.

            “I can try,” I smiled. “What do you wanna hear?”

            “Anything.”

            I cleared my throat.

            “ _Mein Kissen schaut mich an zur Nacht, Ieer wie ein Totenstein; So bitter hatt icht’s nie gedacht, Allein zu sein. Un nicht in deinem Haar gebettet sein.”_

My voice was starting to crack, and Mikasa could hear it. She put her chin on my shoulder and intertwined her fingers around my neck.

            “What does it mean? Will you translate it for me?”

            “Okay.” I swallowed and put the book down, because I didn’t need it for the translation. I had actually read this poem so many times that I had it nearly memorized.

            “‘My Pillow gazes upon me at night, Empty as a gravestone; I never thought it would be so bitter.’” The tears began streaming down my cheeks, and she hugged me more tightly. “‘To be alone, Not to lie down asleep in your hair.’”

            “Beautiful.”

            It was impossible for me to think about my mother without crying like this. The gentle trembles in my body were escalating, as sobs left my lips and the tears became waterfalls. I was thinking unrelentingly of her now. I could hear her voice reciting the words of the poem in my head and it was cruel of my mind to do this to me. Soon I had completely lost control, and I hated the sounds of my weeping. I hated the fact that the tears wouldn’t stop, that my nose and throat were burning, that I wanted so desperately to break something. To punch something. Anything. Mikasa held onto me, squeezing, letting her warmth seep into me. But I hardly felt it.

            I hadn’t cried like this since coming to college.

            So it had been building.

            And now I was upset and angry and I couldn’t hold anything back.

            “Shh, Eren,” I heard. It was Mikasa. She was whispering in my ear, but her voice sounded far away. I couldn’t hear anything but the thumping of my furious heart and my hoarse, ravaged breaths. I couldn’t breathe. I tried to stand up, but she held me down. For a moment I had forgotten how much stronger than me she was.

            I might have screamed.

            I don’t remember.

            My breakdowns were like drunkenness. They had started when I was ten—after the death of my mother. Unpredictable, triggered by the tiniest things that at other moments might not have done anything (like a Hermann Hesse poem). I would lose sight of myself and rampage, throw things, scream, cry, do anything and everything that could relieve me of this terrible pain that made me feel as if my body and mind and soul were being crushed. Destroyed.

            But Mikasa held me down. Nobody had held me down before. She wrapped her arms around me and forced me down, even as I clawed at her arms and screamed at her to let me go. She wouldn’t. I heard her distant voice say my name. Over and over and over. Like a ticking clock. Eren, Eren, Eren. I felt her bury her face in the back of my neck and I felt her warm breaths.

            I’m not sure how long it took me to calm down.

            It could have been hours.

            “You’re okay, Eren. You’re okay.”

            I had no energy left. I let her hold me and closed my eyes and just found my breath. I felt hollow, empty. She was wiping the tears that remained on my cheeks and smoothing my hair out. I think, strangely enough, Mikasa found comfort in smoothing my hair. Or anyone’s hair, for that matter. She did it with Armin all the time.

            “Sorry,” I mumbled.

            “Don’t apologize. Let me make you tea.”

            “I don’t want tea,” I interrupted. “Do you have coffee?”

            “Sure. But I’m giving you decaf. Otherwise you won’t sleep.”

            “Okay.”

            Mikasa walked over to her Keurig machine and began to make coffee for me while I sat, carved out, by the bed. There was silence for a few moments while I regained myself. Her hair looked very black and smooth.

            “She died when I was ten,” I said.

            “You don’t have to talk about it, Eren.”

            “I want to. I want to tell you the full story,” I insisted. She nodded wordlessly. “She died when I was ten. Actually, she was killed. Murdered. By a crime syndicate.”

            “A crime syndicate?”

            “Drug dealers. Gangsters. I wasn’t home when it happened. I was at school. My first day of fifth grade. I came home and the house was turned upside down and my mother was dead.”

            She didn’t say anything. Mikasa knew better than to apologize.

            “I still don’t know why they came,” I continued. I was too tired to get worked up again. “I don’t know what they wanted with my mother. I have a feeling that it had something to do with my good-for-nothing father. The only clue I found about the murderers was a brand. I didn’t want to see it. It was burned into my mother’s flesh.”

            “Eren...”

            “A skull surrounded by roses.” I grabbed the coffee she handed me as she sat down beside me.

            “A skull surrounded by roses?” she repeated. Her eyes were wide and blinking.

            “I don’t know what it means and I still don’t know who they are. But for a while afterward, I became obsessed. I read the news everyday, and I couldn’t watch anything on television except for the news and crime reports. I listened to the police radio whenever I could. I researched obsessively, looking for some kind of clue. I couldn’t find anything.”

            “That’s why you want to be a prosecutor.”

            “Yeah.”

            “Drink your coffee.”

            I drank my coffee.

            “I had to start going to therapy because I would throw tantrums and break down and nobody could control me. Soon enough Armin was the only friend I had. I lived in a foster home since my mother was dead and nobody knew where to find my father. I didn’t want to talk about it but they made me, because they said I needed to be treated. Which I guess, looking back, was true. Eventually, I decided to dedicate myself to my schoolwork so I could make something of myself, because I know that’s what Mom wanted. I’ve gotten a lot better. I mean, I hope I have. It’s been eight goddamn years.”

            “I’m sure you are.” She leaned her head on my shoulder and gently grabbed my arm. I drank more of my coffee. “Thank you for telling me these things.”

            “I haven’t told anybody this except for Armin, and he practically lived through it with me,” I murmured. “You’re a good listener.”

            “I’d like to think so.”

            I smiled and leaned my head against hers.

            “Do you still want to hear about my family?” she asked.

            “Yeah. I do.”

            “You’ve probably noticed, but I’m mixed.”

            “I did, in fact, notice.”

            “My mother’s Japanese, my father was French.”

            “So I’m guessing you’re related to Levi on your father’s side.”

            “Our fathers are brothers. I got most of my looks from my mother.”

            “I bet your mannerisms are from your father,” I said. “You and Levi have very similar ones.”

            “Unfortunately, you’re right,” she smiled. “My dad and his dad were both assholes, so we’ve inherited that.”

            I laughed dryly, and that made her smile more.

            “Like I said, we didn’t meet until relatively recently. I grew up in the mountains in northern Japan, and he was here. But we moved here, too, when I was eight.”

            I already knew, from previous conversations, that Mikasa’s father was dead.

            “How old were you when your dad died?”

            “Twelve. Car accident. Mom and I lived by ourselves after that. We’ve been okay. She works hard.”

            “You do, too.”

            “Yeah.”

            “Do you miss him? Your dad?”

            “Very much. But you learn to live with it. I mean, I don’t have to tell you that.”

            “No, but I’m sure you dealt with it better than I did.”

            “There’s no ‘good’ way to deal with the death of a loved one, you know.”

            “Maybe you’re right.”

            “I do miss my dad. But I’ve always had to be strong for Mom.”

            “When did you meet Levi?”

            “I was fifteen, he was eighteen. We got a call from the police in this city, saying that they had a kid in custody who apparently was related to us. We didn’t actually live here, and my mom still lives about three hours by car from here. By the time Mom went to pick him up, he had already gotten bail. But after that we reached out to him anyway, and he and I stayed in contact.”

            “...Bail? What are you talking about?”

            Mikasa was quiet. My coffee was warm now and I didn’t want it, and I felt bad because she had made it for me.

            “Hey, Mikasa.”

            “What is it?”

            “You know that I’m involved with him already, right?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Like...really involved.”

            “Probably more involved than he is.”

            “Don’t remind me.”

            I knew she was upset with me for getting involved with him when she had warned me not to. Hell, _I_ was upset with me.

            “Do you know where he is?” I asked.

            “No.”

            “Are you lying to me?”

            “No. But if I were, you wouldn’t have any clue.”

            “That’s what scares me.” I paused, and then retraced my steps. “What was he in jail for?”

            “Being a punk.”

            “A...what?”

            “Well, if you’re gonna be involved with him, you might as well know.” Mikasa sat up straighter and took the coffee from my hands and drank the rest in one go. I stared at her blankly, wide-eyed. This was the turning point. Finally. “Levi was essentially a thug until he was eighteen. When they finally caught him and put him in jail.”

            “Wait, he... _huh?”_

“A thug. You know. Roamed the streets with his little posse. A vigilante. Doing whatever he wanted, evading the police. He was on the wanted list at the city’s police station for a good while.”

            “ _This_ city?”

            “Yes, this city.”

            I recalled Levi telling me that he knew the city very well. I didn’t want to believe what Mikasa was saying—was she just saying it to get me to back off? Some twisted ploy? But I looked into her eyes and I knew, deep inside, that Mikasa would never lie to me about this. She might lie to someone, but not to me. I knew she wouldn’t.

            “Don’t misunderstand. He wasn’t some kid who wandered off the straight and narrow,” she continued. “He’s been an orphan since he was young. He’s never known what it’s like to have family. He’s had to fend for himself. But, still...he’s dangerous.”

            I wasn’t sure how to respond. I had known there was something about Levi that people weren’t telling me (or that people didn’t know). But this was not at all what I had expected. Now I knew, for a fact, that I was in much too deep.

            _Let me out._

_Let me out._

_I don’t want this anymore._

_But..._

I knew there was no way for me to let go of him now that I had had a taste.

            “So the police found him. But you said someone paid bail—do you know who?”

            “You can probably guess. And he needed a lot more than bail to get him out of there.” Mikasa stood up and made herself another cup of coffee. I racked my mind, trying to think of what she meant. And then I remembered what Hanji had said to me earlier.            

            _“He’s never really opened up about his past, but I think something happened that’s made him this way...I mean, he knew Erwin even before he came here, right?”_

            “Erwin?”

            “Mhmm.”

            “But...why?”

            Mikasa shrugged. She definitely knew more.

            But she wasn’t telling me, and I didn’t want to ask her to.

            I was too terrified. I didn’t want to hear anymore.

            _Unless it’s from his mouth._

“You really don’t know where he is?”

            “I really don’t.”

            This time, I believed her.

            I curled up and stared at the ground. Without a word. Mikasa sat beside me and pulled out her laptop and put on a movie and, after a few hours, I fell asleep against her shoulder dreaming of Levi’s voice whispering my name in my ear and my mother’s fingers in my hair.


	17. I Receive A Phone Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look i'm avoiding responsibilities again by writing fanfiction :) 
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> xoxo

**16**

**I Receive A Phone Call**

            I woke up in Mikasa’s bed. It was early, but she wasn’t in the room. Sasha wasn’t either. It was just me, alone in their room, curled up in her sheets. I realized then, trying to find my bearings, that my phone was ringing—the interruption in my usually steadfast slumber. I groped for it in the darkness, rummaging through the bed until I found it, vibrating and much too loud for this early. I didn’t even bother looking at the caller ID. I just pressed answer and put the phone to my ear.

            “—llo?” I said. I could hear the grogginess in my voice as I fell back down on the pillow, blinking slowly.

            “Eren.”

            “Hmm, yeah?”

            “I woke you up, didn’t I.”

            “Mhmm.”

            “Sorry.”

            “’s okay.”

            It took my brain a few moments to realize that it was Levi on the other end of the phone. I furrowed my brow and we were both silent for a few moments, while my mind wrapped itself around the fact that he was calling me at six o’clock in the morning on a Saturday. I was much more awake now. I turned over in bed and grasped the pillow tightly.

            “Levi?” I finally said. “Um...”

            “Sorry,” he repeated. His voice was low and tired, with an exhaustion and a heaviness that I wasn’t sure I recognized.

            “No, no, it’s fine,” I blurted. “I just...wasn’t expecting you to call.”

            “I know.”

            I paused, uncertain of how to proceed.

            “So...”

            “How are you?” he said.

            “Fine?”

            “Good.”

            “Levi, did you call me at six o’clock on a Saturday morning to ask me how I’m doing?”

            “So what if I did? You answered.”

            “Well, you got me there, I guess.” I chuckled softly to myself, but I was uneasy. Something wasn’t right about this. I was ecstatic to be hearing his voice—I was always ecstatic to hear his voice—but it was unexpected and strange and I didn’t know what to make of it. “Are you...are you okay?”

            “Yeah, I’m fine.”

            “Okay...”

            “Eren.”

            My heart always sped up when he said my name like that. I held my breath and squeezed the pillow.

            “Yeah.”

            “Tell me about your week.”

            “M-my week?”

            “Yeah. Tell me about your classes. Fun things you did. A good shit you took. I don’t...I don’t really fucking care what you say, I don’t...just...”

            “Levi...?”

            “Just talk.”

            His voice was strained. I gripped the phone harder and was crushed beneath the weight of my emotions, of his emotions, of the way he talked to me and spun me around his finger. His hand was holding mine and he had put a blindfold over my eyes and I was walking in complete darkness, wherever he led me, swaying and rocking and straightened only by the sound of his voice saying Forward, Forward, Stop, Right, Left, Backward. Anywhere.

            If he asked me to talk, then I would talk.

            “Class was fine. I’m not so stressed anymore,” I began quietly. I tried to imagine the expression on his face—I wanted so badly to be looking into his eyes. He would be staring straight at me, brow slightly furrowed, cigarette in his straight-line lips. Actually, no cigarette, since he didn’t smoke before one. “I ran into Hanji yesterday and we had dinner. Jean and I might go to a party today. Um...I spent the night at Mikasa’s.”

            “You’re at her place now?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Oh.”

            I remembered our conversation from last night and I wanted to ask him about what Mikasa had told me but, from the slight tremor in his voice and the intensity that I could feel just through the phone, I decided against it. I didn’t want to talk about that with him.

            “We talked about my mom, and her mom,” I decided to say. He was quiet on the other end. “Have I ever told you about my mom?”

            “You told me that she used to say you couldn’t have a brother, because she needed to keep all of her love for you.”

            “Oh yeah, I guess I did,” I smiled. I wished he could see it, because it was for him. “It was nice. Mikasa’s nice. But she’s not here right now.”

            “She’s at the gym every morning at six o’clock sharp.”

            “I know. She’s crazy. Then again, if Mikasa is crazy, I must be a raving lunatic.”

            “You are a raving lunatic.”

            “You’re one to talk.”

            There was silence then, and my stomach was tossing so much I thought I might vomit. I gripped it and curled up and wanted so badly for him to talk more. Close my eyes and listen to his voice come through the phone to my ear from wherever the hell he was.

            “Are you tired?” he asked.

            “Not really,” I lied. “Are you busy right now?”

            “Kind of.”

            “Then maybe I should—”

            “No,” he interrupted. “No, just...listen, do me a favor.”

            “Anything.”

            “Just stay on the phone for a little bit. You don’t even have to talk, you...You can go back to sleep if you want. But don’t hang up.”

            There was an urgency in his voice that sent waves of fear through me. I wanted to see his face at that moment more than I’d ever wanted anything.

            “If that’s what you want.”

            “That’s what I want.”

            “Then I’ll stay on the phone for as long as you need me to,” I murmured. I heard him sigh on the other end, and my entire body felt hot and cold at the same time. Burned and frozen, moving back and forth through a sea of fire and ice. Levi didn’t have to ask. He knew that I would do whatever he wanted.

            I didn’t say anything else after that, and he didn’t ask me to. I just lay in bed holding the phone to my ear, comforted by the fact that there was someone on the other end. Someone important and beautiful, someone who was telling me that he wanted me to stay there for him. I could hear his breathing, and it was like a lullaby. My eyelids drooped, but I knew I wouldn’t fall asleep, not now. I sat there, still, wrapped up in the bed sheets, rocked and swayed gently to the rhythm of his distant breaths. I felt an inexplicable urge to cry, but I pushed it aside and found comfort in imagining that he was beside me. We must have been silent for at least fifteen minutes, if not more.

            “Eren?” he said after a while.

            “Hmm?”

            “I wanted to see if you were still there.”

            “I’m still here. I’ll be here until you tell me to go,” I whispered. “I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing or why you called me in the first place, but I don’t really care. I won’t hang up until you ask me to.”

            “You’re a real dumbass, you know that?”

            “So I’ve heard,” I said.

            “You’re really...really fucking stupid.”

            He didn’t sound angry or vindictive when he said it. As if he had opened his mouth and those were the words that had decided to come out.

            “But if I’m stupid enough to do whatever you want, you should stop complaining and consider yourself lucky.”

            “Lucky. Right.”

            I wanted him to say my name again. And I wanted to say his.

            “Levi,” I said.

            “What?”

            “Nothing. I wanted to say your name. That’s all.”

            “You...” His voice trailed off. “I have to go.”

            “Okay.”

            “I’ll be back next weekend.”

            “All right.”

            “Stay out of trouble, you hear me?”

            “I hear you.”

            “Did you buy a scarf?”

            “I bought a scarf.”

            “Good.”

            Silence.

            “See you later,” he finally said.

            “Okay.”

            He didn’t hang up, so I kept talking.

            “You know I don’t care when you call me, right? At six in the morning or at four in the morning or whenever...in class or sleeping or...I don’t care. You know that, right?”

            “...I know that.”

            “Call me whenever you want. I’ll answer, okay?”

            “I will.”

            “Okay.”

            “See you, Eren.”

            “Bye.” 

* * *

 

            Jean and I did end up going to a party that night. It was another frat party—the one that Erwin was president of. But when we asked if he was there, we were told that he wasn’t. That he would be gone for the next week. Jean brushed it off and downed another solo cup, complaining about Marco’s tendencies to stay in on nights like this, but I got nervous when they said that. I knew that he and Levi were together. Things weren’t making sense quite yet, but now at least I could actually see the puzzle. I didn’t have all the pieces, but I had a few. Although, after my conversations with Hanji and Mikasa, it seemed that the more answers I got, the more questions I had. I found myself wondering hopelessly if there would ever be an end to it.

            The next week went by without incident. I went to class, worked out with Reiner and Mikasa, studied and watched Netflix with Armin, suffered through my jealousy when I found myself suddenly surrounded by happy couples. Even Jean had a steady boyfriend, which ended up leaving me alone in the room most nights. Sometimes Marco would spend the night but it wasn’t often. I liked Marco. We got along well. But that fact didn’t keep me from being unapologetically bitter toward Jean. I don’t even remember which day it was, but I had lunch with Petra and Hanji at some point during that week—looking back on it, I was in a haze. Moving as if through a fog, not really sure where each step would take me and content with that fact. I did feel lighter, though. After talking to Mikasa and crying so much it had hurt, I felt much lighter.

            And I thought incessantly of Levi’s phone call. Replayed it in my head over and over, poring over every single word he had said. And poring over the silence we had shared, perhaps more intimate than anything physical we ever could have done. I remembered every moment of it with crushing clarity. 

* * *

 

            As I’d been hoping he would, Levi called me on Friday. He said that he was on his way back. It was four o’clock in the afternoon. I told him he could come to my room if he wanted; Jean would be at Marco’s. Our conversation was easy and normal. Maybe it was just me (I never could tell what he was thinking), but I felt as if his phone call had made this kind of thing easier. As if we could speak to each other with such ease. As if we had known each other for centuries.

            “Do you have condoms?” he suddenly asked.

            “Do I...do I _what?_ ”

            “Are you deaf? Do. You. Have. Condoms.”

            “Um...”

            “Forget it, I’ll just bring some. See you in a few hours.”

            I had almost forgotten how blunt, how to-the-point, Levi always was. He wasn’t trying to dance around what we were both thinking about, even though bringing it out into the open like that had left me flustered and stumbling. If I had been walking I would have tripped.

            We had ‘slept together,’ in a sense, but we hadn’t actually had sex. I assumed, with a racing heart and tingling skin, that that would probably change after tonight.

            I was sitting on my bed, eating chocolate and watching YouTube videos, when the knock came on the door.

            “It’s open,” I called. Levi opened the door and walked inside as I quickly swallowed my chocolate, popped a piece of gum in my mouth, and closed my laptop. “Levi, hey.”

            “Hey.” He was already taking off his jacket, eyes moving deliberately around the room. I wasn’t sure if he had actually looked at me since walking in, bringing the heat of a sauna with him. For a moment I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to do this—that I might black out or have another meltdown. But as I gazed at his face, my apprehensions began to fade, replaced by pure, unignorable desire.

            “How are you?” I asked.

            “I’m fine.”

            “I’m guessing you’re not gonna tell me where you went.”

            “You guess correctly.”

            He was in a hurry. Had taken off his hat and his jacket and his shoes and was speaking quickly. I sat, eyebrows raised, on my bed. Waiting for his next move. It was a weird feeling, seeing him there in front of me after not seeing him for two weeks. The last time I’d seen him was the night after we’d gone to the lake—when I had relentlessly given my soul to him. Made my bargain. I considered asking him again about the phone call, or maybe about what Mikasa had said, but I didn’t. When I opened my mouth, I couldn’t ask the questions, couldn’t say the words. So I ended up tripping over myself.

            “Is everything okay? You seem kinda...” I began.

            “What.”

            “I don’t know. Paranoid, maybe?”

            “I’m not paranoid.”

            Before I could say another word, he had clambered onto the bed and put his lips to mine. I hadn’t seen it coming quite so fast, but the taste of his lips was refreshing and energizing. He pushed me, harshly, against the wall and straddled me, snaking his tongue into my mouth and stealing my breath right from my lips.


	18. I Am Really Stupid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which eren is still an idiot

**17**

**I Am Really Stupid**

           

            _Why is he in such a hurry?_

_Is he that horny?_

He put his fingers into my hair and sat up straighter on his knees, so that he was looking down at me and plunging his tongue deeper inside. I tilted my head, felt his thumbs on the corners of my eyes, and took him in. My hands moved to the edge of his pants, slid under his shirt and felt his icy skin. His cheeks were still red from the cold, his fingertips chilled, warming themselves in the tendrils of my hair. He was not slow and languid as he sometimes was. He was desperate and passionate and hungry, with a pace and a strength that left me reeling. He bit down on my lips, hard, as I sucked in a breath and fell back against the wall. His fingers pulled lightly on my hair. Then he opened his mouth more widely and let me make my way inside, my tongue craving the taste of him. We kissed and we touched as if the world were ending. When I slid my hands further up his body, pressing them against his stomach, his chest, the tense muscles of his back, he moaned into my mouth and I became dizzy. Drunk.

            I was always drunk with Levi.

            I was suddenly gripped with a ravaging desire, an engulfing lust, that left my lips dry and my head spinning. As the heat spread throughout my body, I wrapped my arms around his waist and, spurred on by the creaking of the bed and the surprised groan from his lips, flipped him over onto his back and settled myself beneath his hips.

            For the first time since he had come in, I really looked at his face. The same as it had always been. Stoic and icy, dangerously alluring. The piercing in his eyebrow, on his ears, the twitch of his lips. But when I looked at them, I noticed something that hadn’t been there before. I cut in the center of his bottom lip, and it seemed fresh, only just beginning to heal.

            “What...?” I began, running my thumb along his lip. “Are you okay?”

            “It’s nothing,” he said.

            And then I noticed another cut, at the base of his neck. I glanced at his knuckles, and they were red and scarred. Another cut on the right side of his chest. Gauze wrapped diligently around his left wrist.

            “Levi, what the hell happened to you?”

            “I told you it’s nothing.”

            “It’s not nothing.”

            “It’s nothing,” he repeated again, putting his hand to my cheek. He gently pulled me down by my shirt collar until our lips met. I hated to admit this—hated it more than anything—but Levi knew exactly how to get me to shut up, knew exactly how to control me. Knew how to make me forget about almost everything. He wasn’t going to talk to me about it. So I let it slip from my thoughts.

            “Let me touch you,” I murmured against his lips. His muscles relaxed and he let me slip his shirt over his head, before he took mine off, too. I pressed my hips down in between his legs, was sent stumbling by the expression on his face. Lips parted, eyes slightly open, head leaning back against the pillow. I pressed harder, until I felt the tremor and heard him suck in his breath. A smile playing on my lips, my body shaking slightly, I slid my tongue down against his neck. I felt his fingers reaching up to my shoulders and pressed my tongue down, sliding, desperate to taste his skin. Then I put my lips there and I sucked, bit down gently on his skin, could hear his quiet moan while his fingers dug deeper into my back.

            “Levi,” I murmured. He turned his head to the side, opened his mouth wider, as I traced a line along his throat and bit down again. Then again here. And again here. Each time spinning wildly from the pressure of his fingers in my skin and the music of his groans. I wanted so badly to taste him, feel him, pleasure him. To know that he could feel me, too. I wanted to see his eyes flutter and make his hair messy and watch his lips tremble.

            I set myself deeper between his hips, felt his cock hardening against mine, and traced a line from his neck to the center of his chest. His chest was rising and falling erratically, and I could hear his uneven breaths. Like an opera, a concerto, from piano to forte to everything in between. I put my hands on the sides of his waist and gently kissed his chest again, hovering above his skin. I ran my fingers along the colorful, dramatic patterns of his tattoos—along the muscles of his arms where the flowers bloomed, along his collarbone where the pen released its ink, along his sensitive spine and the wings on his back that let him soar. Then I moved my lips above his left nipple, lightly touching his right with my fingers.

            “Ah, Eren—!”

            I gently twisted it, while my tongue probed the other. His body arched beneath me, twisting and turning with the movements of my tongue.

            “Harder,” I heard him say. My eyesight blurred for a few moments as the heat went to my head, but I obeyed like a slave. I bit down against his nipple and twisted harder, until he cried out and dug his nails into my back. He was completely hard now, and it was making my legs quiver. I heard my heart beating in my ears as I, with my free hand, tried to undo his belt. But I just couldn’t get it. At least a minute must have gone by of me trying to undo his belt, my mouth still encasing his nipple, before I felt his chest beginning to move with his quiet laughter.

            “Just use both hands,” he said.

            Embarrassed and flustered, I began to laugh too, my breaths falling against his stomach. With both hands now, I undid his belt and lowered his jeans, lowered his briefs, until his erect cock was out in the open.

            I was a little bit nervous, because I had never done this before. But I wanted so desperately to do it, glancing up at him and meeting his gaze. Watching me as he panted, his hands on my cheeks now. I didn’t take my eyes off him. I kissed his belly button, and then moved down beneath it. As I traced patterns with my tongue against his skin—it tasted sweet, which I thought was odd, because he never liked sweet things anyway—I lifted his legs up against my shoulders, and he let me. Let me move him as I wanted. Still my eyes watched his face. Our eyes locked as I lifted my head and put my mouth to the inside of his leg, cradling it with my arm. I moved up with my tongue, watched the breath fall from his open lips, and then I moved down. I could see him losing control of his body, of his reactions. Could see his limbs becoming limp as I took control.

            “Fuck...” he moaned. I saw his fingers clench around the sheets of the bed, and I lowered myself down. Eyes still on his face. But he wasn’t watching me anymore. He had closed his eyes and, trying to prop himself up on his elbows, had his face upturned. With one arm still wrapped around his leg, I grabbed his dick and put the tip into my mouth. I heard his hoarse breath as I took in more of him, went deeper, wrapped my tongue around him and made a ring with my fingers. This desire, these sensations, didn’t seem real. This intensity pushing me forward, a determination that left me breathless. None of it seemed real.

            I wanted all of him, and I wanted all of him at that moment. I wanted to hear him crying out my name. I wanted to see his face red and gasping at the wake of my tongue.

            I went as deep as I could and then bobbed back up, keeping the tip of my tongue on his head. His back was arched off the bed and he was breathing heavily, moaning, outcries of pleasure ringing out while his fingers grasped mercilessly at the sheets. I ran my tongue along the bottom of his cock as he sucked in a breath, and it became caught in his throat. Then he let it out and his entire body swooned and quivered and his fingers became loose for a moment. Until I took him deep again, running my fingers along the edge of his leg. I was glad that Levi was not embarrassed or worried about letting himself show his reactions because otherwise, I would’ve had no idea if I was even doing this right.

            I let myself go, too. I began making sounds I hadn’t know myself capable of making as I moved. Taking him deep, shallow, deep. Groaning against his cock and letting my tongue take in every taste. He was hard and wet and throbbing and it spurred me on, made me tingle from my lower body down through my curled toes and up through my tight fingers.

            “Eren, wait,” he suddenly said, his words hoarse and breathy. He was sweating, propped up on his elbows. He was staring at me with conviction, with such alluring determination that I thought I was going to burst. I took my mouth from his penis and looked at him. Put a small kiss to the inside of his leg.

            “Let’s do it. I’m impatient now,” he said. But he said it with a grin. A slightly raised eyebrow and a lick of his lips as he continued to pant. Before I could respond, he had sat up, forcing me to do the same, and was unbuckling my pants. “Put this on.”

            I’m not sure where he had pulled the condom from, but either way, it was there. I blinked at him as he lay back down and, eyes ferociously locked on mine, bit through the wrapping of the condom. Then he handed it to me with a tilt of his head.

            “Go on.”

            “ _Me?”_

“No, why don’t you put it on that lamp over there.”

            My mind was racing now. Suddenly clumsy and losing all of the confidence I’d had moments ago, I squirmed out of my boxers and was honestly surprised at how hard I was. But it was fine. It made it easier to put the condom on.

            “Come here.”

            I, of course, obeyed.

            I fell forward as he wrapped his arms around my neck and pulled me down. Our lips met and I put my hands beneath his head, feeling the smoothness and the sweat of his raven black hair. I felt his cock against my stomach and I lost track of which tongue, which breaths, which heartbeats, were mine. We were turning into animals, growling and groaning against one another. Bodies intertwining and inseparable.

            “Eren, here.” He leaned back against the pillow and reached over to the desk. He must have put his things there when I hadn’t been paying attention. He grabbed a little tube; it looked like lotion. But I knew it wasn’t lotion. “Give me your hand.”

            I gave him my hand.

            He squeezed some of the lube into my hand and spread it along my fingers. Then he did something unexpected. He brought my knuckles to his lips and he kissed them. I stared at him blankly, at his beautiful face, blotchy and sweating and alive with the passion I was inciting.

            _Me._

_He wants me._

I was stricken unceremoniously with the thought that perhaps it wasn’t me. I remembered the beginning of the semester, when I had overheard him having sex with Hanji. I remembered the rumors, remembered Mikasa’s warnings. Remembered Bertholt and Connie telling me about the conversations they’d heard. Levi wasn’t new to this.

            _Am I just a convenient fuck for him?_

“What is it?” he said, arms back around my neck. I averted my gaze. I wasn’t able to organize my thoughts and I knew that looking into his eyes would cloud them more.

            _Is it actually me he wants?_

“What,” he said again, impatience in his voice.

            “N-nothing. Nothing at all.”

            “Look at me.”

            He took my face in his hands and forced me to look into his face. His eyes were steely, brow furrowed, skin still hot.

            “If you don’t want to do this, we’ll stop. Right here, right now,” he said. “You knew what you were getting into.”

            “I...I know, but—”

            “Do you want to fuck me?”

            “Of course I do. You know I do.”

            “Then fuck me. What’s stopping you?”

            _The knowledge that tomorrow you might be fucking someone else._

“Listen. I’m not going to pressure you,” he said, taking his hands off me and laying straight on the bed. “Do what you want. I’ve made my intentions clear.”

            “Can I ask you something?”

            He was silent.

            “If I were...I mean, if someone else had asked you over to their room tonight, someone other than me...would you be fucking them, instead?”

            He blinked at me.

            “I don’t know. Maybe.”

            I swallowed back the tears, very aware of the fact that my desire for him was still blinding.

            “Does it matter?”

            “Yeah, it matters!” I cried.

            “Why? I’m here right now. I’m with you right now. I came here because I wanted to come here. Are you even stupider than I thought?”

            “Probably. I’m really stupid.”

            My thoughts rushed back to when he’d called me. When he’d woken me up and asked me to stay on the phone with him and we had been silent, together but apart. I thought about that and I felt an inevitable sense of comfort; he hadn’t called anybody else. He had called me.

            _Hadn’t he?_

Then I thought about when he’d taken me to the lake in the city with him. When he had looked out across the frosty waters and said, _“You don’t make me feel suffocated the way they do.”_ I thought about carrying him on my back to the bus stop, falling asleep against his shoulder, losing myself in his body and the symphony of his voice.

            _What exactly does he want from me...?_

            “Eren.” At the sound of my name on his tongue, I looked up. He put his hands to my face once more, leaned up, and kissed my lips. “I’m here. With you. I’m not with anyone else. So don’t ask me useless questions. I’m _here_.”

            Arms around my neck, he pulled himself up until his lips were at my ear, whispering, breathing, sighing.

            “And I want you to fuck me.”

            I shivered and let out the breath I had been holding, more like a growl, and let him pull me back down. Our chests pressed together, our lips grasping for each other. He grabbed my wrist.

            “Do you know what to do?”

            “...Yeah, I think so.”

            I moved my hand, the one covered in lube, down to his ass. He spread his legs out and I put my forehead down to the pillow, desperate to hear him in my ear as I went inside him. I put one finger inside, gentle, slow, easy. He sucked in his breath and his body became tense, and in an attempt to relax him, I put my tongue into his ear and sighed. Ran it along his cold piercings. He took me in deeper, smooth from the lube.

            “The second...one...” he breathed.

            I put in my second finger and he gasped. There were two fingers now. He took a deep breath in as I moved them inside him, carving him out, unable to quite grasp the fact that I had been granted this. That what I’d been dreaming of to the point of sickness was happening, even through my doubts and my apprehensions.

            I realized, again, that I didn’t care about anything else.

            “That’s fine,” he said. His voice was low and raspy and it made me ravenous. “I’m ready.”

            He tightened his grip around my neck as I pulled my fingers out and grabbed one of his thighs, my other hand beneath his head.

            I had never been inside another man before. But I was very certain that this was not the first time Levi had done this.

            I was gentle at first. As I began to enter him, we both breathed out into the milky air, and he held onto me more tightly. I pushed myself further, groaning and about to burst from the sensations—he was tight. It must have been a while since the last time he’d done this. He cried out into my ear as I went in deeper, deeper, grasping at his hair and clenching the flesh of his leg. I was vaguely aware of him wrapping his legs around my waist, and then he pulled me, forcing me deeper. We both cried out then, overcome with the sensations. I was in now. We were already sweating, already gasping for breath.

            “Levi,” I groaned as I began to move. I thrust into him slowly and deliberately at first, pulling out and then slowly pushing back in. I put my mouth against his shoulder and pushed in, out, in this rhythmic motion. He sighed, moved, grasped at me, until a hair couldn’t have fit between us.

            “Harder,” he said. “Harder, Eren, harder.”

            I pushed in harder, deeper, as his scream rang out in my ear. I was grateful for the fact that he let his voice ring out, let me be torn apart by the music of his lips. I began to move faster, pressing my cheek against his and moaning into his ear.

            “Is this good?” I mumbled, thrusting into him. He turned his face away from me and pressed it against the pillow, pulling me in tighter with his legs and his arms and the very sweat of his skin. I put my lips to his vulnerable, outstretched neck and pushed in again. I moved faster, harder, deeper, motivated by the deafening cries of my name.

            “Eren...!”

            We became lost in each other. In the tastes, the feels, the sensations of becoming one together. Fingers digging into my back, pain so sweet it made me see red—hearing nothing but our breaths. The smell of cigarettes and tea and peppermint gum. Warmth and lust brilliant in our fluttering eyes, hoarseness and incoherent proclamations of pleasure on our wet, open lips. We were descending into hell together, and we both knew it. Perhaps he was already there, and was dragging me down with him.

            I didn’t care.

            If it was with him, then I would gladly stroll through the flames of hell.

            He came before I did. I pulled out of him, both of us unable to catch our breaths, and fell onto him. My lips on his shoulder and my head against the pillow, my back scratched and my body sore, while he faced the ceiling and kept his hands wrapped around my neck. We let our legs intertwine and lay like that for who knows how long, wrapped up in each other. Sweating and aching and unable to say even a single word because we were taken, swept away. I kissed his salty skin in a daze. I didn’t know where I was kissing. I couldn’t see straight. If he were speaking to me, I wouldn’t have heard. I couldn’t even feel the beating of my own heart.


	19. I Visit A Museum

**18**

**I Visit A Museum**

            I hoped that his body would leave an indent in my bed.

            I closed my eyes and felt his breaths, steady and warm and hoarse, on my lips. In the darkness I smelled the staleness of his past cigarettes and the remnants of his cologne. In this smooth, engulfing silence, we put our legs together and covered ourselves with the blanket that we had thrown to the ground. In some bizarre attempt to feel even closer than we already were.

            We didn’t know what time it was and we didn’t care. It could have been midnight. Or it could have been ten in the morning. It could have been days since we had been laying there. Time was meaningless to us, passing over our heads like a flock of birds that you watch until they disappear in the distance and you wonder where they’re heading. Ultimately content with the fact that you’ll never know.

            I opened my eyes and looked into his face. In its serenity, its overwhelming beauty, with its power to steal my breath right from my lips and leave me gasping for air, reaching for something that I had only seen in dreams. And yet it was right here in front of me, so close that I breathed upon it. When I reached my hand up and grazed his cheek, it was real. Laying on my pillow, staring back at me, eyelids closing and opening. Still the same when I touched him. When I grabbed a piece of his hair and twirled it between my fingers. Still the same. I was tired and my limbs were weak, and I used my strength to watch him. To let my fingertips hover above his skin, glistening, ethereal in the light, the darkness, swimming around us.

            I put my hand back down against the pillow and blinked, for a moment afraid that he would be gone once I opened my eyes again. But he was still there. Lips like a painting, grabbing my gaze, cracking and dry but gentle and soothing. I saw the outline of his tongue behind them. He was breathing so evenly. I couldn’t see anything but his face. We were huddled too close, our bodies pulled together by the strings that connected our limbs. I felt his toes against my calves, his stomach gently grazing mine when he breathed. I looked at his hair falling like water, in rivulets, against my pillow. The corner of his eye crushed there.

            He put his index finger, slim and delicate but sturdy and deliberate, to my lips. I didn’t move. We were sinking beneath the waves together, clinging to each other, knowing nothing but that which was right in front of us. He moved his finger along my lower lip, from one side to the other, as if he were smoothing out its wrinkles. Then he moved to my upper lip, and smoothed that one out, too. He didn’t take his eyes from my face, and I didn’t take my eyes from his. I wondered how my breath felt on the tip of his finger. He brought his thumb up to my lips then, too. Put his index finger to the corner of my eye. I parted my lips just that much more, until his thumb was running along the inside. Still slow, still lethargic.

            I leaned forward until our foreheads were gently pressed against each other. My hair was falling in my face. He moved his hand from my lips and brushed it from my eyes. Running his fingers through the knots. Over and over, the same rhythmic movement. Brushing my hair out of my face, running his fingers through it, the tip of his nose falling upon my fluttering eyelids.

            My stomach began to ache and my throat began to hurt. I didn’t know which way was up, which way was down, forward, backward. I didn’t know any of it. All I knew was that Levi was there. That was all.

            “Eren,” he said. I didn’t realize, for a moment, that he had said my name.

            _That’s my name?_

“You’re crying.”

            So he began to wipe the tears that I hadn’t noticed slip from my eyes. I didn’t say anything. He didn’t ask me why I was crying, or ask if I was okay, or say anything after that. He just wiped the tears as I clung to the sheets and watched his face.

            Still the same.

            He told me then that I looked tired, and that I should sleep. I blinked. I was tired.

            He kissed my right eye, and then he kissed my left eye. He kissed the tip of my nose, and then he kissed each of my cheeks. The world was becoming black when he kissed my forehead, urging me with his voice to close my eyes and sleep.

            Then he stood up from the bed and I felt an icy wind overtake me. Perhaps I shivered, because he leaned down and tightened the covers around my body. Kissed my forehead again. I wanted to reach up and grab him and bring him back, but I couldn’t find the strength. He had drained it all from me, left me immobile and in a haze on my bed. I didn’t go to sleep yet. I watched him pace around the room, his bare skin glimmering and tattooed and scarred. I watched him run a hand through his knotted hair and stretch, stare up at the ceiling. Then I watched him grab something from his bag, something that was shimmering gold, and walk to the window. He opened it and the breeze chilled the room. He leaned his arms out against the window, put a cigarette between his lips, and lit it with my golden lighter.

            I watched him smoke. He would suck in from the cigarette, his cheeks becoming gaunt and hollow. Hold it in for a few moments, letting the cigarette drop. Open his mouth and let the smoke flow from his mouth, out into the winter air. I’m not sure how long I watched him, or how many cigarettes he smoked. At one point I opened my trembling lips and tried to say his name, but my voice had disappeared. He glanced at me from his position at the window, the cigarette dangling from his lips. I saw him mouthing my name then, but I couldn’t hear him. He was saying something to me that I could see, but could not hear.

            Then I was asleep.           

* * *

            The next week was like a strange dream, ethereal and beautiful and too-good-to-be-true, combined with the daily mundane tasks and errands of college life. I went to class, I studied with Mikasa and Armin, I had lunch with my friends. I got into stupid arguments with Jean, I played video games with Connie, I worked out a few times with Reiner. I took an exam, I ordered pizza, I read a book, I listened to music. I did laundry, I applied for a few local jobs, I walked around campus, I practiced my German. Everything was normal, everything was routine, there was nothing special about anything.

            The only thing that changed was the presence of Levi in my life.

            It became much more direct. Not so subtle or frustratingly fleeting anymore. When I was in class, my mind racing with thoughts of him intermingled with the notes on the board, his name popped up on my phone screen. When I made my plans everyday, I organized everything around our next meeting, my body tingling with the mere anticipation of seeing him again. And as many times as it happened, the butterflies and the shivers never disappeared. As if I was seeing him for the first time no matter how many times it had really been. I was always hearing his voice in my head, saying my name. Was always feeling his fingers in my hair and his breath on my lips.

            We spent every night together that week. I spent every night falling asleep intertwined with him.

            And every morning he woke me up for class with a cup of tea and a kiss ready. He was always, always, always awake before I was. Always. I found myself wondering if he ever slept at all. He would say my name, gently shake me awake, let me grab his fingers like a child before groggily sitting up, grabbing the cup of tea, and receiving the kiss to my forehead.

            I was worried, for the first few nights, about the rumors I’d heard. A few days, I figured, then he would get bored and throw me out for someone else. A week max, I decided. But then I stopped worrying and just pushed those thoughts from my mind (against my better judgment) and let myself fall prey to whatever trap he was laying for me.

_Too deep, too deep, too deep._

I kept telling myself the same thing, and it mattered less and less every time I did.

            We alternated venues. One night in my room, the next in his.

            On Sunday Hanji cooked me dinner again. Then we played video games. Levi tried to play. He walked up and took a seat, deliberate and unsolicited, in my lap, whisking the controller from my hands. I felt Hanji’s eyes on us as I put my chin on his shoulder and wrapped my arms around his waist. Watching him fail miserably. I hadn’t been expecting it but, now that it had happened, it seemed very natural. His body fit perfectly into the crevice of my crossed legs, and when I squeezed his waist he leaned back against my chest and let me place a chaste kiss on his neck. While still failing miserably.

            “You’re bad at this,” I said with a pout.

            He flicked my head.

            “The controller is just fucked up,” he replied.

            I tried to ignore the way Hanji was looking at us. Their eyebrows raised, their smile devious and astonished, their eyes blinking as if to wipe away a vision. It made me want to hold him tighter—as if to confirm that, yes, he had claimed me as his property, and I was very much his.

            On Monday we listened to music for three hours and I had my head in his lap and he was playing with my hair. Not unlike the way Mikasa liked to. He had his glasses on and was writing something mysterious in that notebook of his but I wasn’t paying attention. I was just concentrating on the music and way its rhythms collided with his breathing and the beats of his heart. He told me to do my homework, but I told him that I had already done it in preparation for his arrival.

            “Tch,” he clicked his tongue.

            On Tuesday I studied for an exam I had on Wednesday, and we didn’t sleep together or touch each other much because I, as was destined to become habit, fell asleep on his couch in the middle of my studies. And he again woke me up with a vegetable omelet and a cup of milk and nice good luck kiss to my forehead.

            On Wednesday we ordered pizza and stuffed our faces and he taught me how to play poker, which he was very good at. We obviously didn’t bet real money, but he warned me to learn how to keep a good poker face in case I ever found myself in a bad situation.

            “What kind of bad situation would I even find myself in to warrant the need for that?” I teased. He shrugged and grabbed another piece of pizza. “And anyway, there’s no way that _I_ could keep a poker face.”

            “No, you’re right.” We finished the pizza and brushed our teeth and fell into the sheets together.

            On Thursday I went to his apartment again. I tried to ask him where Mike was all this time, considering the fact that I was supposedly able to spend the nights without incident, but Levi didn’t say much. It seemed as if even he didn’t know where Mike was spending all of his time, which struck me as humorously ironic. I didn’t have much studying to do, and I was sore from working out, so I loitered around his room and read Hermann Hesse for what seemed like the millionth time. While he sat at his desk and typed away on his laptop. His glasses looked really nice. At one point I stood up and began walking around the apartment, finally taking the time to look at all the photographs they had posted everywhere. There were so many I must have spent at least twenty minutes looking through all of them—as if I were walking through a museum, searching for the stories behind every single work of art.

            A lot of the photographs were of the four of them. Petra, Mike, Hanji, and Levi. They looked very different as first-years. Hanji kept their hair down in long, wavy tendrils. Petra was even shorter and her face was still pudgy and smiley and she looked very nervous. Mike was only a bit shorter, and his facial hair not as prominent. Levi was missing a few piercings, but other than that he generally looked the same. Stoic, emotionless expression and I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude included. There were pictures of them around campus, pictures of them at restaurants, pictures of them exploring the city. Then there were pictures of Hanji wearing a lab coat, working with chemicals, running around the city and jumping in the air. Selfies with them and Levi. With them and Petra. Photographs of Petra and her boyfriend, photographs of Mike smelling various things, undoubtedly taken candidly by the ever-vigilant Hanji. Erwin showed his face in a few photographs, his smile dramatically overshadowing everyone else’s.

            I walked back into Levi’s room and began to peer at the photographs he kept on his desk. There weren’t many, but I had noticed them and felt a prickling curiosity. He glanced at me, but stayed silent and let me be. I leaned my elbows on the desk and looked at each picture in turn. The first was just of a landscape—I realized that it was actually the garden that he had taken me to a few weeks ago. But it was spring, and there were people having picnics just like I’d suggested and the lake was a very clear blue. The next picture was one of him and Erwin. Erwin had his arm around his shoulder and was throwing a flashy smile to the camera, while Levi threw his middle finger in the same direction and kept his other hand in his pocket. I held back my laughter when I saw it, such a perfect depiction of their current relationship.

            I didn’t recognize the people in the last picture. There were three, including Levi. He was in the center. I could tell from the way that he looked that it must have been taken years ago. The picture definitely wasn’t recent. There was a young man, perhaps his same age, on his right. He had a very bright smile, a charismatic air, with sandy blonde hair and his arm around Levi’s neck in an affectionate embrace. On Levi’s right was a girl. She looked spunky and wide-eyed and her smile was practically big enough to fill the entire frame. She was grasping Levi’s arm and jumping up just as the picture was taken, her red hair tied into two pigtails. Levi wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t look upset. In fact, he looked happier than I’d seen him in any of the other pictures.

            “Who are they?” I asked. “I haven’t seen them before. Do they go here?”

            “No,” Levi said, without looking away from his computer. “They’re old friends.”

            “Oh. Do you still keep in touch?”

            “No.”

            “That sucks. Hey. Is that the girl that you were telling me about?”

            “What?”

            I put my chin on top of Levi’s head and clasped my hands in front of his chest, squeezed, until he finally reached his hand up and grabbed my fingers. Squeezed back. I didn’t look at his computer screen because I knew he didn’t want me to.

            “The one who showed you the mountain and the lake. You guys stole a car together. Is that her? In that picture? With the red hair and the dimples?”

            “That’s her.”

            “What’s her name?”

            “Why does it matter?”

            I shrugged and began to sway back and forth, taking him with me.

            “I guess it doesn’t,” I said. “Just curious.”

            He paused for a few moments.

            “Isabel,” he finally said. “Her name is Isabel.”

            “That’s pretty. What about him?”

            “Farlan.”

            “You look happy with them,” I said.

            “Yeah?”

            “Yeah.”

            “I haven’t seen them in a long time.”

            “Why not?”

            “Our lives just took different paths.”

            “Do you miss them?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Well you should get in touch with them. I bet they miss you, too.”

            “You think?”

            “Yes.”

            “Eren.”

            “Hmm?”

            “Come here.”

            He pulled my arm down and put a kiss on my temple, and I heard my own laughter ringing out across the room.

            On Friday we went out to the city again. Erwin’s frat was having a party but Levi absolutely refused to go so we left campus. He took me to a cool sushi restaurant because he recalled me saying once that I really liked sushi. We split the bill, and then I got ice cream and he smoked his cigarettes and we walked aimlessly around the city and he let me hold his hand. Then he took me back to the gardens and we went ice-skating. I wasn’t very good, so he held my hands and skated in front of me the whole time, pulling me gently forward, making figure eights with his skates and steadying me every time my body threatened to plummet. We skated until our ears were red and our lips were blue and we were itching to feel each other.

            I tried so hard to forget what Mikasa had told me about him.

            I realized, too late, that I didn’t want to know.

            _I don’t care._

_If we can stay like this..._

_I don’t care about the skeletons in his closet._

So, even as I walked through this dreamy land of pizza and studying and runs to the city with Levi, I was on edge. I was waiting for the moment that he said, I don’t want you anymore. And I was waiting for the moment that I discovered everything about him—or the moment that he discovered everything about me. And I dreaded it like I had never dreaded anything before.

            _Way too deep._

_Let me out._

But I was trapped by his lips, his fingers, his voice in my ear. There was no escape for me anymore. So I fell into his rhythm and let myself feel high and tried to forget about the inevitable crash that was to come.


	20. I Lose My Relatively New Scarf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**19**

**I Lose My Relatively New Scarf**  

            Levi was already awake and working on the sofa in the living room when I got up on Monday, yawning and groggily pulling my shirt over my head. Petra was in the kitchen, making coffee, and she pinched my swollen cheek in greeting. She and the others had grown used to my presence in their house, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Sometimes I convinced myself that I could see sympathy, or pity, in their eyes when they looked at me. As if they, too, were anticipating the moment when Levi grew bored of me as he had grown bored of so many others. Surely this was not the first time they had become accustomed to a young, hopeful person waking up in Levi’s bed every day.

            “G’mornin’,” I mumbled.

            “Good morning, cutie! I’m making coffee. Want some?”

            “No thanks. I’m gonna be late if I stick around,” I said with a sigh. “Levi, why didn’t you wake me up?”

            “You were tired last night, so I let you sleep,” he said. He was reading a book and he was very focused on it; he didn’t turn around or look at me when he responded. “Anything wrong with that?”

            “No, not really,” I shrugged. Then I wrapped the red scarf around my neck, zipped up my jacket, stepped into my sneakers, and grabbed my bag. “I gotta head to class. Text me if you wanna grab or dinner or whatever.”

            “Hey. Where do you think you’re going, you piece of shit?” he said, just as my hand grabbed the doorknob. I turned around and saw him staring at me over his glasses, eyebrows raised, lips pursed. My stomach turned and I smiled.

            “Sorry, sorry!”

            I leaped over to where he sat, leaned over the arm of the sofa, and put a slobbery kiss on his cheek. He pressed his face into my lips, and gently grabbed my collar. When I pulled away, I only had one second to breathe before he put his mouth on mine.

            “Have a good day, you hear?”

            “It’s not like I can really control that, you know,” I said with a blush. He smirked that frighteningly beautiful smirk and waved me off with a flick of his wrist. I was glad that I could go to class with the taste of him still lingering on my lips. 

* * *

 

            “I didn’t wanna talk to her anymore so I casually mentioned that I had a boyfriend, but I don’t think she got the picture, know what I mean?”

            “I think you’re just full of shit.”

            “Shut up, Jaeger!”

            “Guys, come on...”

            I was walking to lunch with Armin and Jean. Hands in my pockets, nudging him with my shoulder, calling him out for his bullshit stories, while he listened to himself talk and Armin acted, as per usual, as the mediator. It was cold and there was white slush on the ground, but we were smiling and blushing anyway, springs in our steps. I had found it relatively easy that day to push all of my apprehensions from my mind, to look around and breathe in the fresh air and walk with my friends and think about the fact that Levi, however long the phase might last, was letting me be infatuated with him as much as I desired.

            “Guys, let’s go do something fun in the city this weekend,” I said. “Forget about the weird parties and let’s go actually do something.”

            “I’m down,” Jean shrugged.

            “If I don’t have too much homework,” Armin said, bashfully twisting a lock of his hair. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and shook him gently.

            “Oh, come on, you can spare one night!”

            “Y-yeah, I guess...”

            Our conversation halted abruptly when we overheard the voices of a few people walking in front of us. A group of guys who definitely seemed older than us—juniors or seniors, at least. We hadn’t been paying attention to them at all, but by some miraculous coincidence, we had managed to hear Levi’s name fall from their mouths as they spoke. We all fell silent. Jean and Armin were, of course, very aware of my situation with Levi by that point. They were almost as invested in the relationship as I was.

            “Levi? What about him?”

            “I don’t know, I’ve been hearing some weird things about him,” one of the guys said. Armin looked at me, but my eyes were fixed to the heels of the guys walking in front of us.

            “Eren, let’s just go,” he murmured under his breath. I shook my head and we kept walking.

            “Weird like how?”

            “Okay, you know how Levi’s kinda...I don’t know...”

            “He sleeps around?”

            “Yeah, sure. He sleeps around,” they continued. Armin elbowed me gently.

            _Listen to Armin, just don’t bother. Why do you want to hear this?_

_Just leave._

“Okay, and?”

            “Well, that’s the thing. Apparently he hasn’t been.”

            My head snapped up.

            “Hasn’t been what? Hasn’t been sleeping around?”

            “Right. A few people in my class used to sleep with him occasionally but he just randomly stopped going around.”

            “Oh. Sudden declaration of abstinence?”

            “Hell no. He’s sleeping exclusively with a first-year, apparently.”

            “A _first-year?”_

My fingers clenched into fists before I could physically will them to. I felt Jean and Armin both watching me.

            “Mhmm. Isn’t that funny?”

            “It’s fucked up is what it is,” one of the guys said. My blood began to boil. “A first-year? Come on, I knew he was low, but that’s bad even for him.”

            “That’s what I was thinking, too.”  

            I wasn’t even processing my own actions anymore. I heard Armin say my name, but I pushed his voice away and leaped forward. Lifted my clenched fist. Felt it make contact with something, heard a crack, was aware of pain erupting in my knuckles. A flash of red. I didn’t know what any of it meant. All I knew was that they were talking about Levi, and they were smiling and laughing as if it were nothing, and I needed to make them shut up.

            “ _Eren!”_

I swung my fist again. But before it could make contact, I took a blow to the face, could hear the sound of my nose breaking, saw blots of colors as I stumbled back. But when I found my footing and was able to see the hazy figure before me, hidden in the mist of my anger, I lunged. Grabbed at his collar and pushed him straight to the ground.

            “Eren, snap out of it!”

            I didn’t snap out of it. I moved to punch him, now laying on the ground beneath me, but another pair of arms grabbed me from underneath and pulled me off. I kicked and struggled while the other guy stood up, spit blood from his mouth, and sent a shovel straight through my gut.

            _I can’t breathe._

As I gasped, he punched my jaw again, sending a throb of pain through my neck.

            “Stop, don’t hurt him, he wasn’t thinking!”

            “Lay off!”

            Jean and Armin were screaming. I couldn’t see any of my surroundings. All I could see was red, and I all I could concentrate on was the struggle of breathing. When I tried to draw in my breaths, they escaped from me—there never seemed to be enough oxygen. Another punch to the face, a kick to my stomach. One holding me and one punching. I knew I was going to black out soon. I could just barely see Armin struggling to pull them off me, could see Jean on the phone, could see the world spinning.

            And then I heard a familiar voice.

            The sound of knuckles cracking.

            “I’ll give you three seconds to drop him and run.”

            Then I was on the ground, seeing the sky twirl, my head a swirl of pain and gasps and my body throbbing. It hadn’t even taken them three seconds. I blinked the tears from my eyes and brought a hand to my nose. My entire face was covered in blood. Then a strong pair of hands helped me sit up, and then my vision began to clear. Jean...Armin...Mikasa. Armin had tears in his eyes and Jean was gritting his teeth, but Mikasa looked calm and collected with an icy look in her eyes. I couldn’t remember where I was or what had happened before this.

            “Your nose is broken,” she said, leaning forward and examining my face. “Does this hurt?”

            She gently put her fingers to the bridge of my nose.

            _“FUCK!”_

“All right, we’re going to health services. Let’s go. Get up, Eren. Deep breaths. Up we go.”

            I knew I had no say in the matter. I let her and Jean lift me up and support me on their shoulders. I took my deep breaths. Let the memories come back to me and let myself feel like a fucking idiot. Of course I had let my stupid temper get the better of me. Of course I had done something without thinking. Of course it had been about Levi.

            I was treated at health services and Mikasa told them that I had fallen down a flight of stairs. She always said everything with such a deadpan face that it was impossible to not believe her. They made me sit in a bed there for a few hours, during which time she, Armin, and Jean took as much time as they wanted to chew me out. I tried to tell them that I didn’t need them to, that I understood I had done something unbelievably stupid, but they were insistent on making me feel even worse.

            “Just try not to be a fucking idiot next time, yeah?” she said, staring me right in the eyes. I averted my gaze and sighed.

            “Yeah, yeah, all right, Mom.”

            “What was _so_ detrimental to your pride that you had to throw a punch, huh?”

            I kept my mouth shut. She looked to Armin and Jean, but they averted their gazes, too. Jean pretended to be on his phone, and then he got a sudden call from Marco and claimed that he had to go. Leaving poor Armin to wither beneath Mikasa’s steely glare.

            “You know what, forget it, it doesn’t matter,” she said. “Just don’t do it again, all right? You could’ve been really hurt.”

            “Okay.”

            “And you have a fever,” she murmured, coming closer and putting a hand to my forehead. “Eren, I’m serious. Please think.”

            “All right, I get it! Just lay off, would you?” She was silent for a moment, smoothing my hair, before I swatted her hand away. “I’m fine, Mikasa.”

            “If you say so.”

            Suddenly, her phone began to ring. She tore her eyes from my face and whipped it out. But when she saw the number on the screen, the color drained form her cheeks and her lips shut even more tightly and I saw her toned muscles tense. Armin and I looked at each other.

            “I have to go. Don’t push yourself, okay, Eren? And Armin, make sure he gets rest.”

            “A-all right.”

            “I’ll call later.”

            She left the room, answering the phone as she did. Armin tried to give me a reassuring smile, the way he always did, but I wasn’t feeling very primed for reassurance. I just felt like an idiot. Embarrassed by the fact that I had done it in the first place, and further embarrassed by the fact that Mikasa had to come save my ass. It was like some weird déjà vu.

            “Are you gonna tell Levi?” he asked quietly.

            “No, of course not.”

            “Okay. Well...try not to think about it, okay?”

            “Easier said than done.”

            “That’s true,” he smiled. He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and looked around the room. “But, you know, maybe what they said isn’t so bad.”

            “What are you talking about, Armin? They called him low.”

            “Sure, but remember what they said before that?” He smiled at me. “They said that he was sleeping exclusively with a first-year.”

            I wondered how that hadn’t really sunk in the first time.

            _Exclusive._

“Not saying I approve, but there’s really nothing I can do at this point. If you’re happy, then it’s okay,” Armin continued. “You never listen to me anyway, you big dummy.”

            I smiled back and felt as if I could fly, broken nose or not. 

* * *

 

            “Hey, Sasha. Is Mikasa around?”

            “Hi, Eren. No, she’s not.”

            “Oh. Do you know where she is?”

            “No.”

            “Damn, I wanted to talk to her.”

            “About what?”

            “I was an ass today, as usual, and should thank her. Could’ve been a lot worse than a broken nose if it wasn’t for her, you know?”

            “Eren...didn’t you hear?”

            “Hear what?”

            “Mikasa didn’t tell you?”

            “Mikasa didn’t tell me _what?”_

“Her mom...”           

* * *

 

            _Her mom._

* * *

 

            I told Levi I was busy that night (and didn’t mention anything about the fight), and he understood. I think he knew what I was thinking without me having to say it.

            Mikasa was his family too, after all.

            I called Mikasa at least ten times, but she didn’t respond. I’m fairly certain now that she had turned off her phone.

            I lost track of time looking for her. Soon it was dark and my eyes had to adjust but I kept moving around campus, checking every corner, calling every few minutes. The moon and the stars were hidden by the clouds and it was unbelievably cold and I was thankful that Levi had forced me to buy a scarf. Otherwise I would have frozen. I went around in circles, passing the same spots but searching just as diligently every time. I needed to find her. She needed me to find her, too.

            I’m not sure what time it was when I finally spotted her. It had to have been late, though; the campus was empty and quiet but for the lights peeking out from the dorm rooms scattered around. She was on the edge of the lake—the same spot where Armin and I liked to come when it was warm out and skip rocks and talk. Looking back, it’s a miracle that I spotted her. She was on the grass, hugging her knees to her chest, her face buried against her thighs. Her clothes were dark and her hair was dark and she blended almost seamlessly into the night. I stopped in my tracks when I saw her, supporting myself on my knees and trying to catch my breath. I had been running. I knew that she heard me, but she made no motion to acknowledge my presence. I saw her body shaking.

            “Mikasa,” I called. I slowly moved to where she sat. “Hey.”

            I crouched down in front of her trembling frame and smiled, though I knew she wasn’t looking. An icy wind blew by and she shook harder, and I realized she wasn’t wearing a jacket. I couldn’t fathom why. Then I remembered the way she had held me and stroked my hair when I had broken down in her room and I wanted to cry very hard for her.

            “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay for me,” I said gently. Wishing I could see her face. “But if you need to talk, or scream, or cry...I’m here.”

            She finally looked up. Her eyes were red and bloodshot and there were endless tears on her cheeks and my heart broke when I saw her melancholic expression. As if the energy and color had been sucked out. She didn’t say anything to me, but she didn’t need to. I fell forward onto my knees and took her into my arms and she grasped onto me and sobbed against my shoulder like a child. Just as I had done not so long ago.

            “You’re shivering. Here.”

            I pulled away for a moment and took off my scarf. Before she could protest, I wrapped it around her vulnerable neck and tightened it, ignoring the cold that hit my now exposed skin. Here eyes were wide as she stared at me in silence. I wiped the tears from her cheeks and stood up and grabbed her arm and helped her to her feet.

            “Come spend the night at my place. Keep the scarf, okay? I’ll just buy another one.”

            “Eren...”

            “You don’t have to say anything. It’s okay. I know how you feel. Really.” We began walking back to my room. “After my mom died, I couldn’t stand it when people tried to get me to talk about it. Or when people told me they were ‘sorry’, or that they understood...because they just don’t. You know?”

            She clung to my arm.

            “So I won’t tell you I’m sorry. But I am here for you. I’ve been through it. Talk to me if you want, don’t talk to me if you want...do whatever you need to do.”

            We walked in silence for a few minutes.

            I didn’t ask her how it had happened.

            “Eren.”

            “Yeah?”

            “Please don’t die.”

            “Wh...Mikasa. I’m not going to die,” I said, stumbling over my words. She had said it so suddenly, and I had not been expecting her to say something like that at all. “Don’t worry. I’ll be here.”

            “Please don’t. Whatever you do, wherever you go, whoever you decide to love...don’t leave.”

            I understood what she was trying to say now.

            And I was absolutely terrified.


	21. I Am Still Being Lied To

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (☍﹏⁰)｡

**20**

**I Am Still Being Lied To**

 

            “What do you want? The only reason I answered is because I’m sick and tired of seeing your name pop up on my phone screen. I should’ve just blocked you.”

            Mikasa was on the phone. I knew exactly who she was talking to. She might have thought that I was asleep, with my back to her curled up beneath the covers. Either that, or she really didn’t care that I could hear her conversation.

            “No, I don’t want to see you.”

            She was pacing. It was three days since her mother had died. She hadn’t left my room except to shower and get protein bars to sustain herself. It was around three in the morning. I hadn’t been able to fall asleep.

            “If you show up at Eren’s door I swear I’ll beat the shit out of you. Don’t come.”

            I had been spending my time comforting Mikasa and hadn’t seen Levi much. We’d had a few meals together and seen each other in passing, but there was a tension, a heavy knowledge between us, every time we did. I missed him.

            “I don’t want to hear your explanations. Yes, I do blame you, as a matter of fact.”

            I was awfully confused.

            “You’re in too deep, and now you’re dragging other people down with you. You should’ve left. You should’ve just gone away and left everybody alone and then we wouldn’t have to deal with this _bullshit_ , Levi.”

            Her voice was breaking, and I hated that. There’s absolutely nothing worse than seeing the strongest person you know beginning to crack. Nothing worse than hearing her voice shake. It’s like seeing the most powerful city crumble.

            “It doesn’t fucking _matter_ what you want now, what matters is the fact that your past is catching up with you. And me. And soon Eren is gonna be involved, too.”

            They were talking about me again.

            “You know what, fine, let’s talk. At the very least you owe me an explanation. No, I’m not meeting you anywhere. Just tell me right now. What the fuck happened when you left.”

            She was silent for a long time then. She moved to the door and leaned against it and crouched down. I knew, even though she was quiet, that she was crying.

            “I...I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault. I didn’t mean to say those things to you. I’m just upset. Really, really upset.”

            The sound of her voice soft and hoarse like that made my heart feel suffocated. I grabbed the sheets more tightly.

            “No, you don’t have to come. I’m fine. It’s late. We can just meet up tomorrow or something.”

            Her sniffles were very quiet, and she dropped her voice to a whisper.

            “Listen, Levi. It’s not my place to tell him, but...I think you should. Or at least do _something_ , because it’s dangerous now. He’s falling in love with you, and I—no, no, you don’t get it. The next time you see him, ask him to tell you about his mom. Then you’ll get it. I’m serious. I’m not just being jealous.”

            I held my breath.

            “That has nothing to do with this. I’m not talking about _me_ anymore. I’m talking about you and him. Get it under control, Levi. He’s like family—you _are_ family. My only family left now. If something happened to him, or to you...no, I’m not crying. I’m just...yeah. Thanks.”

            I didn’t even know what to think anymore.

            “Okay, I will. You, too. Yeah. Love you, too.”

            At that moment I realized that Mikasa and Levi had both been lying to me about not knowing each other very well. Even if they had only met three years ago. Every interaction I had witnessed between them had been an act—except, perhaps, when I had seen them working out together.

            She hung up the phone and cried silently and my mind twisted and turned and spun and I wanted to rip my hair out of my scalp. When I decided to get out of bed, after the sun had risen and I had missed class, she was gone.

           

* * *

 

            I was silently watching him smoke. Trying to count the indents on his lips and trace with my eyes the outlines of his bones. Watching the speckles of the sunset floating into the roam and resting atop his head. I let my eyes wander along the details of his wings. Etched with such meticulous detail on his back—when he moved, or tensed his muscles, the feathers fluttered and I felt that if I reached out I would be able to grab one between my fingers. I lay in his bed, wrapped up in his covers, while he sat on its edge smoking his cigarette. He was staring at the window, but I’m not sure what was there for him to look at. I reached my fingers out and let the tips graze the skin of his back, to see if maybe the feathers were real. He turned over his shoulder and glanced at me through hooded eyes. I smiled at him. He didn’t smile back, but he reached his hand over and brushed my hair from my forehead.

            “What’re you staring at?” he said, his voice low and gravelly and muffled from the cigarette and the smoke.

            “Your tattoos.”

            “You like them?”

            “Mhmm.” His thumb caressed the corner of my eye. “They’re beautiful. They look real.”

            He took out his cigarette and crushed it on the ashtray on his desk. And then he climbed on top of me and put his hands on either side of my face and pressed his forehead against mine. The tendrils of his hair that fell across my eyelids tickled, and I laughed. I reached my lips up for his, and I kissed him, as our legs became tangled up in each other. Neither of us closed our eyes. His were deep and gray and were staring into me with a silent urgency, a silent desperation. I knew he liked the color of my eyes so I blinked them for him, tried to make them shine. His hands held me tighter and his forehead pressed harder and I could feel him leaning into me.

            I think he knew that I knew he was only sleeping with me.

            We hadn’t said anything about the death of Mikasa’s mother, either. I didn’t know if he had been close to her but I didn’t want to bring it up if he wasn’t going to.

            “Let’s go get a new one,” he said, kissing my lips again.

            “A new what?”

            “A new tattoo. I want a new one.”

            “Huh? Now?”

            He sat up, putting his hands on my chest. His face was as stoic as ever.

            “Right now.”

            “Where?”

            “Here.” He grabbed my hand and led it up to the nape of his neck. I ran my fingers along the skin there, feeling the short cut of his hair and the bareness. The vulnerability.

            “Of what?”

            “ _Kuinaki Sentaku_ ,” he said. Japanese. I blinked. He reached over to his desk and grabbed a sheet of paper and showed it to me. It was kanji that I couldn’t read.

            “What does it mean?”

            “A choice with no regrets.”

            “You don’t have any regrets?”

            He shook his head, running his hands up and down my chest. He had fire in his eyes, and they set me aflame.

            “You wanna go get it right now?” I had stopped growing surprised with Levi’s spontaneity and learned to just go with it.

            “Yeah.” He kissed me again. “Do you want to come?”

            “Okay.”

            _I’ll follow you wherever you go._

_But you know that already, don’t you?_

We got into his car and we drove out to a tattoo parlor about forty-five minutes away. He let me choose the radio station. We listened to Nirvana and I banged my hands against the dashboard to the beat of the drums and sang along while he cracked the window open just slightly, smoked his cigarettes, and watched me from the corner of his eye. It was late but he assured me that the place would be open and that it wasn’t an issue.

            “You wanna get one?” he asked me as we pulled into the parking lot. It was a dingy-looking place really out in the middle of nowhere, and the sun had set even before we’d left. There were only a few cars in the parking lot, and a few motorcycles. It looked like the type of place where there once was an old gas station on the side of highway, with nothing within a five-mile radius.

            “No, I’m okay. Maybe next time,” I joked. He shrugged, suit yourself, and we got out of the car. When we walked in, the man behind the counter lifted his head and smiled a very big smile. The place was not at all what I expected it to be. It was bright inside, with art adorning every inch of the place in bright colors and meticulous design. It was all very beautiful and pleasing to the eyes, and I was looking around like a child in a candy shop. There weren’t many people inside, but I could only imagine how exciting and lively it was during the day.

            “Levi! Long time no see.”

            “Hey, Gunther. This is my friend, Eren.”

            “Pleasure,” he said. His smile was friendly and his handshake was very firm. He had tattoos all over his arms and popping up from his shirt on his neck, and piercings along the edges of his ears. “You here for a tattoo?”

            “Oh, no, I’m just here with Levi,” I said, shaking my head.

            “Ah, pity. You have great skin,” he winked. As I blushed madly, I could see Levi smirk and begin to take off his jacket. “If you ever want one, you let me know.”

            “Sure...”

            “All right, Levi. Where we doing it today?”

            “Back of the neck.”

            “Cool. Have a design, or letting me freestyle?”

            “Fuck no I’m not letting you freestyle.”

            “Of course not, of course not,” Gunther laughed, throwing me a sly glance. He led us to a back room sectioned off from the main lobby with a curtain. There was a long seat and a table with a bunch of tools and a needle that was much too big for my liking. Levi lay on his stomach on the chair and handed the piece of paper with the Japanese writing on it to Gunther.

            “All right. Just like this?”

            “Just like that.”

            “Sure thing. What does it mean, if you don’t mind me asking?”

            Levi told him what it meant. I sat in a chair in the corner, hands clasped in my lap, watching as Gunther began to dab the back of Levi’s neck with a few cotton swabs and disinfectant. They began to make small talk. I kept my gaze relentlessly fixed onto the nape of Levi’s neck, anxiously anticipating the moment Gunther’s needle pierced his flesh. I bit my lip down and wondered if I would ever get a tattoo myself. Watching it be done to someone else was tempting, actually. The only time Levi showed a hint of pain was when the needle first touched his skin, and he flinched and sucked in a quick breath. After that, he made it seem relatively painless.

            “So, Eren, you go to school with this punk?” Gunther asked.

            “Yeah.”

            “Do you like it there?”

            “Sure, it’s all right.”

            I caught Levi’s eye, and smiled at him. He might have winked at me, or given me a small grin, but it was hard to tell.

            “How do you two know each other?” I ventured.

            “Levi came here to get his first tattoo when he was...jeez, how old were you?”

            “Fifteen.”

            “That’s right, fifteen.”

            “ _Fifteen?_ Isn’t that illegal?” I cried.

            “The little bastard tricked me into believing he was twenty,” Gunther smirked. “Had a fake ID and everything. By the time I realized I was already halfway done with the tattoo, and I felt bad just leaving him with one wing, so I finished for him.”

            “You didn’t call the cops?”

            “Nah.”

            “But if somebody found out, _you_ could’ve been arrested.”

            “I know, but there’s just something about him,” Gunther said. He smiled while he worked, eyes glued to Levi’s skin. “Of course I told him that I wouldn’t give him another until he was eighteen. He kept coming back, and I kept refusing. Until his eighteenth birthday. What did you get that day?”

            “The left sleeve.” Levi’s voice was muffled through his clenched teeth.

            “Mhmm.”

            I leaned my head on my hand and watched as the bare skin became imbued with the ink, and the characters began to make sense on his flesh. Gunther did it perfectly, each curve and line blending in naturally and gracefully. And Levi wore it well. Of course he wore it well. I tried to imagine myself in that chair, feeling the needle pricking my skin and changing it forever (hopefully for the better). I tried to think of what kind of tattoo I would get.

            “Okay, all done. You know the drill. Don’t pick at it, don’t expose it to sunlight, don’t soak in the shower...you’ve done this enough times to know how it works,” Gunther said, letting out a sigh and sitting back. Levi let out a breath as well, and gently sat up. My eyes widened as I looked at the finished product. It was beautiful. Gunther held up the mirror for him.

            “Looks great. Thanks,” Levi said. After that, Gunther put a bandage on it and clapped him on the shoulder heartily.

            “Like it?” Gunther asked me with a wink.

            “Y-yeah. Looks...um, looks amazing.”

            “Like I said. You ever want one, you’re welcome here any time,” Gunther said.

            We went back to the front counter and Levi paid, including a hefty tip. Gunther gave me his business card in case I ever wanted advice on a tattoo. Then, shrugging his jacket over his shoulders, Levi popped a cigarette into his mouth and we left. We were the last ones there. It was ten o’clock. We got back into the car without a word as the flame from his lighter pierced the darkness. I sat in my seat, shivering silently. I wished he didn’t have to wear the bandage, because I wanted to look at the tattoo more. Its image enticed me. I wanted to know the meaning of it.

            “It’s really beautiful,” I heard myself say as he started up the car.

            “Yeah?” he smirked. I nodded, aware of the heat in my cheeks even though it must have been below freezing. He lifted his fingers and cupped my chin for a moment—fleeting and dizzying. “Thanks, Eren.”

            “Are we...heading back to campus?”

            “I don’t know. Do you want to?”

            “No,” I said without hesitation. I wanted to be anywhere but there.

            “All right. Then we won’t.”

            He put the car into reverse and we got back onto the road. He drove in the opposite direction of campus. I didn’t turn on the radio.

            “Where are we going?” I murmured.

            “Nowhere.”

            “Nowhere?”

            “Just driving. Why, got a place in mind?”

            “No. I like this. Let’s just drive.”

            I slipped my shoes off and put my feet on the dash, and for a moment I was worried that he would yell at me. But he glanced over at me and put his eyes back on the road and said nothing. I slumped down in my seat and reached over and played with the sleeve of his jacket. I didn’t care that I might have been distracting him from the road, and he didn’t seem to care, either. He let me do what I wanted. I felt the questions I had thrown to the back of my mind beginning to resurface, and I became afraid of opening my mouth. I remembered all the things Mikasa had said, all the rumors, the conversation I had overheard between them. The secret conversations, the ways that he and Mikasa and Erwin had mentioned my name...

            “Hey, Levi.”

            “What.”

            “Were you and Mikasa’s mom...were you close?”

            He breathed in audibly from his cigarette and, even though it wasn’t even half-finished, tossed it from the small opening in the window.

            “I don’t know about ‘close,’ but she was family,” he said. Without any changes in his demeanor. “She did whatever she could to make life easier for me. She treated me like her own son.”

            “So you were close.”

            I didn’t want to play games anymore. Levi glanced over at me and knew that and didn’t respond. I saw his fingers tighten around the steering wheel.

            “You’re close with Mikasa, too,” I added. It wasn’t a question. He stayed silent, and that was enough of a confirmation for me. “She told me how you guys met.”

            “Did she, now.”

            “Yeah. Said that you needed bail.”

            “I did need bail.”

            “But Erwin got you out.”

            “Erwin did get me out.”

            “How?”

            “His dad was the head of the police department and he pulled strings for me.”

            “Why were you in jail?”

            “Stealing.”

            Up until that point, he had been telling the truth. But I knew that was a lie the moment the word left his lips.

            “Why were you stealing?”

            “Why the fuck do you think? I was dirt poor.”

            “Why didn’t you reach out to Mikasa’s family?”

            “Didn’t know they existed.”

            “Why did Erwin get you out?”

            “Ask him, I don’t know.”

            Another lie.

            “You’ve never asked him yourself?”

            “What is this, cross-examination? You’re not a prosecutor just yet, you know,” he spat. I had reached the end of the rope. I lowered my eyes and stared, not really focusing, on the road in front of us. He had been steadily driving faster and faster, and I hadn’t even realized, but he was starting to slow down now.

            “Sorry,” I mumbled.

            He stopped the car then, and the sigh that left his lips was exasperated and heavy and I could see the burdens on his breath. We were in the middle of the road god-knows-where, it was pitch black outside, and snow was falling around us. I was hugging myself loosely and after we were stopped and Levi put the car into park, he leaned his forehead against the steering wheel.

            “Sorry,” I said again. Not knowing what else to say.

            “Stop fucking apologizing,” he hissed. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

            “Sorry.”

            He had his eyes closed and was taking deep, steady breaths. I couldn’t bear to look at him, so I stared out into the darkness.

            “Fuck,” I heard him say.

            We were in a strange situation. In which he was keeping secrets from me, and I knew he was keeping them from me, and he knew that I knew. But still he wouldn’t tell me. I don’t know if he was expecting me to put the pieces of the puzzles together myself, or if he was hoping that I would just never find out whatever it was he was hiding.

            “Mikasa doesn’t deserve this,” he whispered. “Her mom didn’t fucking deserve to die.”

            I didn’t know what he meant, but I let him talk.

            “ _Fuck!”_

He banged his hands on the steering wheel and the car honked. I jumped in my seat. He leaned back and ran his hands through his hair and stared, with eyes gleaming, at the roof of the car. I wanted to start crying, but the tears weren’t coming. Levi brought his feet up to the seat and hugged them to his chest. He was in the same position I had seen Mikasa in only a few days ago. But I wasn’t sure what to do, as I had been with her. I was at a complete loss.

            “Fuck,” he said again. This time his voice caught in his throat. Hoarse.

            “You can yell at me if you want,” I suddenly said. He whirled to face me, eyes narrowed.

            “What?”

            “You can yell at me. I don’t mind,” I repeated. “When my mom died, Armin let me yell at him. I always felt bad afterwards, but it helped me. It might not be the best coping mechanism, but if you want to, I don’t care.”

            “You’re a fucking piece of work, you know that?”

            “Yeah, I do.”

            “You’re sick and masochistic.”

            “You’re probably right.”

            “Fuck, sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

            “It’s okay. Say whatever you want.”

            He just stared at me then. I wasn’t sure what to make of the expression on his face, but I still wanted to cry. I didn’t care what he said to me—the fact was that he was saying it _to me_. It was hard to see the details of his face in the darkness. The white light of the moon made his silhouette shine, made his eyes sparkle. I stayed completely still, paralyzed beneath his gaze.

            “Why do you put up with me and my bullshit?” he whispered. “I don’t understand.”

            “I don’t understand either, actually,” I shrugged.

            “I could tell you that I hate your guts and never want to see your stupid face again, and you would still stare at me like that,” he murmured. “With your stupid green eyes and that stupid fucking smile.”

            “Yeah.”

            “I hate that.”

            “Sorry.”

            Then we clambered for each other, reaching forwards in the darkness until our breaths intermingled and our skin meshed together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want a tattoo really badly.


	22. I'm Lost and I'm Stupid and I'm Beautiful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: some graphic violent images in this chapter
> 
> not too bad, but they're there
> 
> enjoy <3

**21**

**I’m Lost and I’m Stupid and I’m Beautiful**

 

            I was careful not to touch the bandage on his neck because his new tattoo was still raw.            

           We reached for each other like animals, out here in the middle of nowhere, on this street, in this car, where nobody would hear our moans or feel the heat in which we so desperately encased ourselves. I had that feeling in the pit of my stomach—the feeling I had every time I did something like this with Levi. The dangerous thrill of knowing that it was a bad idea, but being so tempted, driven so mad by the mere thought of it, that I really had no choice. My free will whisked away by his burning fingertips. As he kissed me, biting his teeth down into the willing wetness of my lips, I hurried to take my jacket off. I opened my mouth and closed my eyes, felt the thickness of his tongue filling my open lips, pressing against mine. We tossed our clothes to the backseat. Hands at my neck, heavy, gravelly breathing against the tip of my tongue, Levi moved until he was sitting on top of me, his knees digging into the seat. He pushed me against the car seat let his hard crotch fall against mine.

            With a guttural groan, I leaned back and squeezed the bare flesh of his hips with my tingling fingers. Tilted my hips up, pulling him down at the same time. He swiveled his hips and ran his tongue smoothly along my lower lip and I was dizzy, seeing stars, for a few moments. Lost in the pleasure of the pressure, of the taste. There was sweat on his skin. As his fingers became tangled in my hair and I felt the sting against my scalp, we opened our mouths wider. Our tongues met in the heated space between us, twisting and turning. A line of saliva dribbled down the corner of my mouth, I couldn’t breathe, but I couldn’t stop. The vibrations of his voice, caught in his throat as he moaned, filled me to the brim. I sighed his name and pushed my tongue deeper into him. He squeezed my thighs with his legs, swiveled his hips again, and I felt the tremors of his cock through his tight jeans. I reached my arms around to the small of his back and held his chest to mine, moving my lips to his shoulder. I could hear his patchy, steaming breaths in my ear.

            I bit down on his skin gently, and ran my fingertips up along his spine. His entire body shivered, and he put his lips to my ear and moaned. My voice rippled on his skin and I slid my hands into his pants, grabbing his ass. But I froze, paralyzed by the pleasure, when he ran his tongue along the outline of my ear while simultaneously pressing the palm of his hand to my cock.

            “Nn, Levi,” I heard myself murmur.

            “Louder.”

            He groaned into my ear again, pressed harder against my erection. I couldn’t take it. I arched my head back against the seat of the car and cried out.

            “There you go.”

            I opened my fluttering eyes and saw him grinning, his lips close and parted. I was watching them and nothing could have torn me away. He ran his tongue slowly along his lower lip and I felt sick with desire. But I couldn’t move. He leaned toward me slowly, slowly, inching. He put his lips softly on my lower one, touching it with the tip of his tongue. Then he put them to my upper lip. I opened them for him. He smoothly slid his tongue through again and let his teeth graze my skin. My eyes flitted until they were closed, and then the sensations erupted in my lower body again when he put his hand into my underwear. He wrapped his fingers around my cock and I arched my back, felt his tongue scrape the exposed skin of my neck. He pressed it harder, ran it in circles, bit down and sucked until a hoarse cry escaped my quivering mouth.

            “Let me hear you,” he mumbled against my neck. And like a slave I obeyed, my voice spilling into the misty air.

            “Ah—!”

            Suddenly I was gripped mercilessly, led insane by my thirst for him. He must have understood. He lifted his hips and slipped his pants off and, still planting heavy kisses on my throat, undid my belt. I didn’t take them off all the way—just enough that my cock stood erect and open. He wrapped his arms around my neck and kissed me again and we panted and groaned and groped for each other. I ran my hands up and down his spine, traversing the map of his muscles, making notes in my mind of every detail of his naked body. I tasted the sweat on his lips and I sucked on them, lapped them up, bit down on them.

            “Eren...” he sighed. As I held his waist I glanced at his face. He was leaning his chest against mine, his lips parted, his eyelids heavy and his hair matted to his sweating temples. I bit down on my lower lip, feeling my cock throb. I noticed that the windows in the car had fogged up. I couldn’t see the outside world anymore.

            Our patience was waning thin. As he gasped for breath and leaned his head forward against the seat, he gestured toward the glove compartment. I opened it with shaky fingers. As I should have expected, there were a few condoms and a bottle of lube. I could hardly open the condom wrapper, but I managed. Levi was still holding onto my neck, his pants still crashing into my ear. I put a kiss on his shoulder and buried my face against his neck—still being careful to avoid his new tattoo. He squeezed me more tightly.

            When I put my fingers, covered in lube, into him, he jolted and dug his fingers into the skin of my shoulder blades. I breathed in his scent, kissed his skin, and went in deeper. Loosening him up. I was sweating as if we were in a sauna, consumed so completely by this moment. When he was ready, I slowly withdrew my fingers. He still didn’t move his arms from my neck when I lifted up his hips and positioned myself beneath him.

            “Ah, Eren—”

            I entered him gently. Heard him suck in a breath and felt his entire body tense. I put my tongue to his skin and groaned, as my cock went deeper and felt the tightness. But he loosened up quickly. He sat down against my hips and I felt myself going deeper than I ever had before this moment—I pulled him down toward me. His nails drew blood from my skin. Finally, he brought his face so that he was looking into my eyes, sweat pouring, skin red, red, red.

            “Levi.”

            He lifted himself up, then brought himself back down. Turned his face up toward the roof of the car, giving me his smooth skin and his exposed body. I let my open lips hover above his outstretched neck and put my hands on his hips and we moved together as if we were one entity, dancing to the same rhythm, our hearts beating at the same time. In addition to the hot sensations of being inside him, I felt his cock grazing my stomach and, as he moved up and down my dick, I grabbed it.

            “Ah!”

            He cried out and slammed his hand against the foggy window, bit down on his lower lip. I could see his toes curling. I began to jack him off as he rode me, and he moved and writhed and cried out and, in the midst of it all, I could hear myself crying out, too. Deafened by the pleasure, numbed by it. The seat of the car was itching my back and it was so hot now that we were dripping. But I didn’t close my eyes. I didn’t tear my gaze from his face. Nothing, nothing at all, could have convinced me to look away from him. At one point he lowered his head and wrapped his arms around my neck again and put his forehead against mine. I reached my hand up and touched his lower lip, felt his breath, while he reached the tip of his tongue out against my thumb.

            “Mm, Levi, I’m—!”

            We came at the same time. He must have been holding himself back. It came in rivulets on my stomach, our bodies heaving their final tremors, before I slid my cock from inside him and he collapsed against me. I hugged him close, and he hugged me close, and we fought to catch our breaths. I saw the print of his hand on the window, could feel the indent of my body in the seat.

            “Sorry about your car...” I managed. Knowing his inhuman habits of cleanliness.

            “I was gonna clean it anyway,” he murmured. So I smiled and blew into his ear, smoothing his hair from his eyes.

            “Okay.”

            We stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, before he handed me one of the disinfectant wipes he kept in the glove compartment and got back into the driver’s seat and we struggled to put our clothes back on in this cramped space and haphazardly wiped the fog from the windows so that he could see well enough to drive us back to campus. It was two o’clock in the morning and Jean was in the room but Levi spent the night anyway and I fell asleep holding him against my chest. Still careful about his new tattoo.

 

* * *

 

_I don’t want to lose you._

_To deep, too deep._

_Who are you?_

_Let me out._

* * *

 

I was in Levi’s apartment when he asked me about my mother. Just as I’d overheard Mikasa tell him to.

            We were on the couch. I was tired and grumpy, laying my head in his lap and staring absentmindedly at the ceiling. He was pretending to watch a sitcom on the TV, smoking a cigarette and leaning back against the sofa. There was an open bag of popcorn next to him and, as my stomach growled, I tugged on his arm and opened my mouth. Still with that deadpan expression, he took a piece of popcorn and placed it on my tongue. Each time I opened my mouth. It was late and I hadn’t been productive all day and Mikasa had gone back home to take care of some things for the week and I missed her. I wasn’t in a very good mood, but Levi’s stoic demeanor and nonchalance calmed me down. Or maybe it was the look in his eyes that calmed me. The way he blinked silently as he fed me. The feeling of my having my head in his lap.

            “Oi, Eren.”

            “Yeah?”

            “I want to ask you something.”

            To be honest, I had been waiting for him to ask about her. I had known that he was going to, if just from the fact that I had eavesdropped on Mikasa’s phone conversation with him. I felt overwhelming fear for a few moments that if I tried to talk about her, I would break down again. But when Levi glanced down at me, and I saw the shimmer in his eyes and the smoke on his lips, I knew that I wouldn’t.

            “Okay,” I said. He put another piece of popcorn in my mouth.

            “I want to know how your mom died,” he said.

            “Oh.”

            “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

            “That’s okay.” I shook my head and made my best attempt at a smile. It hit me then that he and Mikasa really did look a lot alike.

            I told him how she had died. How I had come home from school to see the front door broken, the picture frames that lined the walls cracked and fallen. The furniture overturned and footsteps made of blood. The plates and vases broken, shattered in dangerous pieces on the floor. Everything in complete darkness. The door to my mother’s bedroom thrown open, creaking ominously on its hinges. The television playing in an empty room, its voice reaching nobody’s ears anymore. I told him how I had walked into her room, calling for her in a meek, shocked voice, to see the mass of blood on her bed. Her mangled body, torn and gashed and unrecognizable now. Completely ripped apart but for a single patch of skin, on the spot on her chest where she had once held me very close—and on that single patch of skin was that brand. The skull and the roses. I told him how I had gotten dizzy and screamed and, my eyes stinging with tears, had fallen to the floor. I told him how when I had woken I was in the hospital and there were investigators and I was all alone and I kept screaming.

            Levi was running his fingers through my hair, his cold fingertips refreshing on my skin, while the cigarette dangled from his mouth. I was surprised at how calm I was as I spoke. As if I were telling him the most mundane story.

            I knew he was going to ask, so I told him before he had the chance that I wasn’t sure why she was killed. But I told him that I was going to figure it out, even if it took me years. I was going to become a prosecutor and find whoever killed her. Avenge her death. I told him that I had been trying since that day to find out just who those people were, what kind of crime syndicate they ran, what they wanted with my mother. All while he silently stared at the television and smoked and smoothed my hair.

            “Why do you want to know?” I asked softly when I was done.

            Levi looked down at me and his fingers froze. Then, after crushing the cigarette on his ashtray, he forced me to sit up and looked me in the eyes and wrapped his arms around me and brought my head down against his shoulder and hugged me. I didn’t move. I just let him hold me. Drained. I fell limp against him.

            “Hey,” I finally said. After an eternity.

            “Just shut up.”

            “Why are you...why are you still holding onto me?”

            “I told you to shut up.”

            “Is it just because I want you to?”

            “Eren.”

            “I don’t care if that’s why, really.”

            He pulled away and held me at arm’s length. I managed a smile.

            “I’m just curious, I guess,” I continued.

            “Look at you,” he whispered. He put his palm against my cheek. My skin tingled. I turned against his hand and closed my eyes. “You’re so lost.”

            He wiped the single tear that escaped my eye.

            “You’re lost and you’re stupid and you’re beautiful.”

            I opened my eyes and laughed dryly. But the expression on his face terrified me into silence. His brow furrowed, his lower lip trembling ever so slightly, so pale that he could have been physically sick. I saw a storm in his eyes that stole the words, the breath, from my lips. He looked frightened, anxious. Holding something back deep inside of him. I saw his eyes fall to my lips. He bent forward and he kissed them. Gently. Chastely. A quiet, numbed urgency.

            “Listen to me,” he murmured against my skin. “Forget about trying to find your mother’s killers, Eren. Forget about them. They don’t exist. You can’t find them, you can’t fight them.”

            “Levi...?”

            “You can’t avenge your mother, okay? You can’t. It’s pointless. It’s all pointless. Forget about them. Forget about it all. Just forget it.”

            I felt that he had bitten out a chunk of my heart and spit it onto the floor.

            I was going to start screaming at him. I knew I was.

            Before I had the chance, I grabbed my things and put on my jacket and left him there on the couch, my face burning and my blood boiling and seeing nothing but _red_.

            I don’t remember the expression on his face when I left.


	23. I Fear for My Life Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get ur life together eren 
> 
> stupid small cinnamon roll 
> 
> (actually don't i need material for my fanfictions)

**22**

**I Fear For My Life Again**

 

            I felt like shit.

            It wasn’t the type of depression and anxiety that I wanted to talk to anybody about. I was lost in a whirlwind of hating myself and hating Levi and hating everything that ever happened to me since the death of my mother. I was sitting on my bed, looking through a shoebox filled with newspaper clippings and magazine articles and notes I had been scrawling since that day. Everything that might have given me a hint about her killers. I was reading through them ravenously now, pushing from my mind all of the words Levi had said to me. I was so angry, so frustrated, so confused that I couldn’t even cry. It seemed as if my life in college had been going well, and then Levi had happened. And now things were fucked up with Mikasa and it felt like the city I had been rebuilding after my mother’s death was starting to crumble again. I knew now, from the fire I had seen in Levi’s eyes and the words that had fallen from his lips and the conversation I had overheard between him and Mikasa, that he had some type of connection with the circumstances of my mother’s death.

            What exactly that was, I had no idea.

            And I couldn’t grasp what he had said to me. I couldn’t believe he had been able to so calmly look in my eyes and say something like that. I had never wanted to punch somebody so badly. I wasn’t sure what I would’ve done if I had stayed.

            _Who the fuck does he think he is?_

_Trying to tell me what I can and can’t do?_

_Acting like he knows anything about me?_

“Damn it,” I cried, overcome with the rage, and threw the shoebox across the room. It hit the door and fell to the floor with a thud, the pieces of paper scattering around. I grasped at my hair and pulled, in some feeble attempt to channel my anger. Just then, there was a gentle, meek knock on my door.

            “Go away,” I said. Knowing who it was.

            “Please let me in. You’re not answering your phone...”

            “Because I don’t wanna see anybody.”

            “Eren.”

            “I’m serious. Go away.”

            I knew that Armin was still standing there. I could imagine the sad, pouty look on his face.

            “It might help to talk it out,” he continued. “I brought pizza.”

            His voice sounded so gentle. I couldn’t stand it.

            “Door’s open.”

            Armin walked in, pizza box in hand, and nearly stumbled on the shoebox. He looked around at the mess and then looked up at me with a furrowed brow and shimmering eyes.

            “Oh, Eren.”

            I told him that I didn’t want to talk about what had happened, and he didn’t make me. We ate the pizza and put on a movie (I really can’t remember which movie it was) and, of course, Armin’s presence helped calm me down. His smile was contagious and energizing.

            “Hey, Armin. Do you think I’d look good with a tattoo?”

            “A tattoo? Like, of what?”

            “I don’t know,” I shrugged. “Does it matter?”

            “I mean, no,” he smiled. “It doesn’t really matter what I think anyway. If you want one you should get one.”

            “Yeah?”

            “Sure. And for the record, you probably _would_ look good with one.”

            I laughed and pushed against his shoulder, wondering at the same time what kind of tattoo I would get. It probably wouldn’t be anything with meaning to it because I couldn’t think of anything like that—probably just a cool design that made me feel rebellious. Whatever that meant. That same pointless feeling that had probably driven Levi to get his tattoos.

            “What are you thinking about? Are you gonna get one?” Armin asked.

            “I don’t know...Can I ask you something?”

            “Of course.”

            “Have you ever wanted to do something, even though you knew it was a bad idea, just because someone told you not to?”

            “No,” Armin said. He leaned against the wall and tucked his hair behind his ear. “But you know me. I’m not exactly the rebellious type.”

            “Well, I don’t think I am either,” I mused, “but for some reason I feel like that.”

            “About what?”

            “Lots of things. I felt like that with Levi, with my mom...”

            “I think that’s different from rebellion, though.”

            “Yeah? How? Isn’t rebellion when you do something people tell you not to do...just for the hell of it?”

            “Sure. But you’re not doing it just for the hell of it. Right?” Armin said. I blinked at him.

            “How do you know?”

            “Because I know you. You don’t really care what people say one way or another,” he laughed. “You do things because you want to do them. If someone agrees with you, great. If someone disagrees with you, you go ahead and do it anyway. It has nothing to do with rebellion.”

            “You really think so?”

            “I know so.”

            I grabbed a piece of now-cold pizza and began to nibble on it. It didn’t taste like anything anymore.

            “You didn’t get involved with Levi out of rebellion. It wasn’t because I told you not to, or because Mikasa told you not to,” he continued. “It was because of something else. You’re not rebellious, but you’re...I don’t know. You’re really determined, I guess.”

            “Determined.”

            “Yeah. Like, once you want something, you _really_ want it. You can motivate yourself to do pretty much anything.”

            “So then why would I get involved, knowing it’s a bad idea, unless I’m rebellious?”

            “Because you’re an idiot,” Armin laughed. I made a mocking face and pushed him again. “But, more important than that, you know what you want. Rebellion is different. Like, let’s say someone tells you not to smoke a cigarette. You don’t particularly _want_ to smoke the cigarette for the sake of smoking a cigarette, but now you want to because someone said not to. I think that’s the type of rebellion you’re talking about. And you’re not like that.”

            “What about with my mom?” I said, more quietly. “Does it make me a rebel if I keep trying to keep her memory alive...if I keep trying to avenge her death, even though people tell me not to?”

            “Of course not,” he replied. “It’s the same. You know what you want and you’re willing to do what it takes to get it.”

            “Am I stupid, Armin? For going after them?”

            “Eren. No.” Armin leaned in closer and put his hand on my shoulder. “Where is this coming from? I’ve never heard you doubt yourself like this.”

            “I’ve just been thinking,” I lied. I didn’t want to mention to him the things that Levi had said to me. “Maybe it’s pointless. Maybe I’m being naïve. Maybe there really is no way to do it.”

            “Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?” Armin said. “This is so not like you. Did something happen? You know you can tell me.”

            “I’ve just been feeling like shit about it. I’ve been feeling like shit about a lot of things.”

            We sat in silence for a few moments, and I knew Armin was trying to think of the right thing to say. I could see it in the hard twinkle of his crystal eyes.

            “You wanna know what I think?”

            “Sure,” I sighed.

            “It’s so cliché, but I think that you should just stick to your instincts. I mean, I also think it’s important to listen to what people tell you, and to take their advice and pay attention. Especially when you know they care about you. But in the end, it’s _your_ life, right? And if you end up not going through with something—or, for that matter, going through with something—because someone else told you to, you could regret it for the rest of your life. Even if you do mess everything up and those people who tried to convince you were right...wouldn’t you rather make your own mistakes?”

            “Jesus, Armin,” I laughed dryly, “you talk like an old man.”

            “I have an old soul,” he smiled. “But you know what I mean, right? Listen. Pay attention. Take heed. But also take everything with a grain of salt. Do what _you_ feel is right. Not because someone else says it is or it isn’t, but because you feel it is. Do what you feel you have to do because otherwise you’ll get old and gray and be sad and full of remorse, and I don’t want that for you.”

            “I swear you’re actually 100 years old in there.”

            He smiled, and I smiled back. Armin always had a way of wording things that calmed me down. Made me think rationally.

            “Okay, how about this. What if someone that you really, really care about tells you not to do something—but you feel like it’s right to do it. You feel like you don’t really have a choice. What do you say to that person?”

            Armin, of course, knew that I wasn’t the type to talk about hypotheticals, but he let it slide.

            “Well, I think first you have to recognize that that person probably had a reason for saying the things they did. If they really care about you, they’re not just going to tell you not to do something you want to do for the fun of it, you know?”

            “Sure.”

            “So I think looking at it from their perspective will help you not feel angry or betrayed. That being said, it’s still your decision. And you should make that clear to them. That even though you care about them and appreciate their help, in the end it is your life.”

            “Right.”

            “Try to look at the big picture. I always find that taking a step back is enlightening.”

            “Yeah?”

            “Sure. Like, when you got involved with Levi after Mikasa and I both told you not to,” he said. I frowned at him, but he ignored it and kept going. “Sure, we weren’t thrilled. But we know that you listen and pay attention to what we say, even if you don’t implement all of our advice into your life...I, at least, am comforted by the fact that you made your decision knowing that it was truly something you wanted. Does that make sense?”

            “Kind of?”

            “Whatever. You get my point,” he said. “The most dangerous thing, though, is convincing yourself that people are out to get you. We’re not out to get you. We want to help you. I’m sure this mystery person who really cares about you said what they said for good reason. To help you.”

            “Hmm.”

            I grabbed another piece of pizza. We fell silent again and pretended to watch the movie. I still felt like shit, but it was different. As if I understood the situation a little bit better.

            “Thanks for coming, Armin. Sorry for being a butt.”

            “That’s okay.”

            “You were supposed to say, ‘You’re not a butt, Eren!’”

            “You know I’m not good at lying.”

            We laughed and joked and ate pizza until Armin couldn’t keep his eyes open, so he said good night and dragged himself out of my room and back to his dorm. While I sat, thinking about my mother, pondering what exactly I was going to say to Levi about it.

           

* * *

 

            When it was the middle of the night and Jean was asleep and I had been trying to do the same unsuccessfully for hours, I went outside. In a pair of slippers, haphazardly putting on my jacket, grabbing my keys and my phone. Making sure to close the door very gently so that Jean wouldn’t wake up. I didn’t want to answer questions. Hands in my pockets, I made my way outside, where there was snow falling and it was much, much colder than I had been expecting. I walked for about a minute before I found it unbearable and collapsed on the nearest bench, ignoring the wetness that seeped through the seat of my pajama pants. I was not dressed for this and I was in a haze, shivering and staring at the snowflakes drifting in front of my eyes. I think it was about three in the morning. I stared at nothing for as long as I could stand it. Until I had a headache from gritting my teeth and I couldn’t ignore the thoughts rushing around in my head.

            I pulled out my phone and called Levi.

            I knew he would be awake, and I knew that he would answer.

            What I didn’t know was what to say when he did.

            “Eren. It’s the middle of the night.”

            “I know,” I replied. More relieved than I thought I’d be to hear his voice. I was afraid that I would recall what he’d said and get angry again, but I found that I had been unconsciously desperate to hear his voice. If only to know that he was still there.

            “Are you okay?”

            “I’m fine.”

            “You sound terrible.”

            “Thanks.”

            “Are you outside?”

            “No.”

            “Don’t lie to me, you piece of shit.”

            “Yes.”

            “Get the fuck inside before you get sick.”

            “I don’t want to.”

            He sighed on the other end of the line, but was silent. He knew that anything he had to say would have been useless.

            “I wanted to apologize,” I finally said.

            “For what?”

            “I don’t know...being rude to you yesterday. Storming out.”

            “Do you have to apologize for everything?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Well don’t. I don’t need it or want it.”

            I was hoping that he would apologize to me, too, but I was fairly certain that it wasn’t going to happen. Levi wasn’t really the type to apologize—mostly because, from what I could tell, he didn’t allow himself the luxury of regret.

            “I feel like shit,” I said. My teeth were chattering slightly and I couldn’t feel my ears or my fingers.

            “You sound like shit, too.”

            “Do you mine if I tell you what I really think?” I heard myself say. “I mean, like, what I _really, really_ think.”

            “As much as I’d love for you to lie to me, go ahead.”

            “I think that what you said to me was really shitty, Levi.”

            “Yeah?”

            “Yeah.”

            “And why’s that.”

            “Because you don’t know anything about me,” I spat. But I was careful. I knew what I wanted to say now. I thought about what Armin had said to me. Thought about the way Levi had looked into my eyes and held me and smoothed my hair, and knew that I didn’t want to say anything that I would regret later. “I mean, not about that, at least.”

            “You mean about your mom.”

            “Yeah. I mean, what gives you the right to tell me what I can and can’t do?”

            “Experience. The wisdom that accompanies old age.”

            “Oh, spare me.” His sarcasm was misplaced and he knew it. “I just...I just wanna know why you said it.”

            “What?”

            “I wanna know what made you believe that you could say that to me. Tell me that I can’t avenge my mother, that my dreams don’t matter. What could you possibly have to gain from that? From saying such shitty things to me?”

            “Eren.”

            “What? You think that if you just keep saying my name like that, the way you always do—you think that if you keep doing that I’ll just forget it and we can move on?”

            “Where are you?”

            “Outside, freezing my ass off.”

            “Are you at your dorm?”

            “Yeah.”

            “I’m coming to get you.”

            “Don’t bother.”

            “Shut the fuck up and don’t move. I’m coming to get you.” He paused. “We’ll talk, all right? Just wait for me.”

            _Of course I’ll wait for you._

Ten minutes later I saw him walking toward me through the mist, the whiteness of the snow. Heard his boots crackling against the snowy ground and saw his silhouette glow brighter and brighter beneath the dim street lamps. He had a jacket, a scarf, a hat, and a pair of gloves with him. Before I could even say anything, he crouched down, forced me to put on the second jacket, strapped the hat over my head, and took my trembling hands. I couldn’t move them well enough myself so he put the gloves on for me. Then he wrapped the scarf around my neck—where the fuck did your new scarf go Eren—and helped me stand up. The tip of his nose was red as his words were taking corporeal form in the winter air. He led me back to his apartment and I don’t think that I said a single word. Petra, Mike, and Hanji were asleep. He forced me to sit down on his couch, without taking off my jacket, and made us tea. Then he sat down on the couch, stripped down to his boxers while I sat the complete opposite beside him, and lit a cigarette.

            He didn’t look angry. And his tone wasn’t angry. It was exasperated and monotonous, but not terribly surprised. As if he had been expecting this to happen.

            We sat there for a while, I regaining senses in my limbs and gradually stripping down to my pajamas, while he smoked cigarette after cigarette. And I watched. Silently fuming, seething, my skin chilled but my blood boiling.

            Finally, once I had regained my thoughts and my teeth stopped chattering and the tea was lukewarm slithering down my throat, I broke the silence.

            “What do you know that I don’t?” I said.

            “A lot, kid.”

            “You know what I mean,” I sighed.

            He blew the smoke up toward the ceiling, arching his neck back over the sofa. Fingers delicate and soft. Legs crossed. As graceful as a sculpture.

            “Look, I know that I’m stupid, but I’m not blind,” I continued. “When I told you about my mom...something changed in you. And I wasn’t going to tell you, but I overheard Mikasa talking to you about it. What are you hiding from me? It obviously has something to do with me and I want to know.”

            He closed his eyes and I shivered. Put the cigarette between his two fingers and let it dangle over the edge of the sofa. Opened his eyes and brought his other hand to my cheek. Still cold and colorless. He brushed it with the backs of his fingers. I was perfectly still.

            “I think I’ve figured out what it is about you that makes me crazy,” he murmured. My breath caught in my throat. “Finally.”

            “Levi—”

            “It’s this air around you...something I’ve never seen before...like nobody can help but want to protect you. So lost. Mikasa feels it, too.”

            “I...I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stumbled.

            He stared at me, continued brushing my cheek. Before he shrugged and took another drag and pulled away.

            “Forget it.”

            “You’re changing the subject.”

            “Not at all,” he replied. “It’s all perfectly relevant.”

            “Would you stop playing games _for once!”_

He froze. Looked over at me. Face stern and austere. I hadn’t realized it, but I was nearly screaming. My frustration was getting the better of me.

            “Games?”

            “I’m tired of trying to figure shit out on my own! It’s like everybody knows something that I don’t...something about _me_ , and I can’t stand it anymore!”

            “You think I’m playing _games_ with you?”

            Cigarette hanging from his lips, Levi grabbed my lapel with both of his hands and pushed me down against the sofa. Hard. I gasped as he dug his knuckles into my collarbone and I could see the muscles in his face tense as he grit his teeth. A felt fear surge through me. Pain already hovering on the surface of my nerves in anticipation.

            “Don’t talk about shit when you don’t what the hell it’s about,” he hissed. I could feel the heat from the end of his cigarette above my lips. “Don’t act like you know _anything_.”

            I had been terrified into silence. He tightened his grip on my shirt.

            “Don’t pretend to know what I’m thinking. You think I’m playing games with you, you shitty little bastard? _You think I’m playing games?”_

I had unconsciously brought my hands up around his wrists, pulling slightly to alleviate the pressure against my chest. If only a little bit.

            “I said what I said so you don’t go out and get yourself killed,” he continued. He lifted me up and then pushed me back down again, making me cough. “I said what I said because I know what those people are like. I know what they’ll do to you. I know what’ll happen, I...”

            As he spoke, his grip began to loosen. His voice got quieter and quieter until it trailed off completely and I believed for a second that I could see the energy seeping out of him. Closing his eyes, he brought his forehead down onto my shoulder and sank against me. Caught off-guard, still sweating, I just watched.

            “Damn it, Eren,” he whispered. “Why can’t you just listen to what people tell you?”

            “You’re telling me that? Of all people?” I said quietly. “That’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

            “And just what the fuck do you know?”

            “Not a lot. Obviously.” I brought my hands to his shoulders and pulled him in tighter, putting my lips to the top of his head. The smoke from his lonely cigarette filling my nostrils.

            “I know what they do to people, Eren. Hell, _you_ know what they do to people. Why would you go after them? Do you think you can avenge your mom with sheer will power and determination? That’s not how the world works.”

            “I know it’s not. But I have to do something,” I said. “I can’t live the rest of my life knowing that there was something I could’ve done but didn’t.”

            He didn’t say anything, and I couldn’t see the expression on his face. Buried in my chest.

            “I don’t know what happened in your past. I don’t know why you’re reacting like this or what you know about my mom or about me or...whatever. I really don’t. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing would convince me to stop going after them. And maybe I don’t have the means to right now, but I’m working on it. Let me hold my grudge.”

            “Grudges are dangerous.”

            “Of course I know that. But she was my mom,” I said, my voice cracking. “She was my whole world. She was everything. I...”

            Levi sat up and took his cigarette and crushed it on the ashtray. His face returned to its emotionless state, but his cheeks red and his eyelashes wet.

            “Levi?”

            “What.”

            I reached up my hand and wiggled my fingers. Gaze fixed to mine, he grabbed my hand.

            “Are you holding a grudge, too? Is that why you’re like this?”

            He was silent and that was enough for me.

            “Okay. Can I say one more thing?”

            “Say as many goddamn things as you want.”

            “Thank you.”

            Before he could resist, I bounced up, wrapped my arms around his slender torso, and pulled him back down on top of me.

            “For what?”

            “Caring about me this much.”

            I felt him squeeze me, hard, and even though I cried myself to sleep, I didn’t feel so terrible anymore.


	24. I Find A New Puzzle Piece

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK AT ME AND MY EYEBROWS I'M SO COOL
> 
> chapter 23: feat. Erwin Smith

**23**

**I Find A New Puzzle Piece**  

            Erwin Smith sent me a message while I was in class the next day asking me for dinner. I already had plans with Mikasa and Armin, but there was something about the way Erwin had worded his message. Very concise, more of a demand than a request. My stomach did somersaults when I saw it. I apologized to Mikasa and Armin and promised them dinner tomorrow. Making sure, of course, that they knew I wasn’t bailing on them to hang out with Levi, because they had certainly had enough of that. I suggested we go to a dining hall, but he adamantly refused, saying he was going to treat me. So we went to a little Italian restaurant about a ten minutes’ walk from campus. He was already seated at a table for two, back straight and napkin spread on his lap, when I got there.

            “Eren. Good to see you.”

            He stood up and shook my hand, his grip firm and deliberate, as I took off my jacket and shakily sat down. I tried to tell myself that it was natural to be nervous. Surely he hadn’t just invited me here because he wanted to hang out—we definitely weren’t that close. And it wasn’t rush season, so it wasn’t like he was looking for recruits. I could only think of one reason he would’ve invited me here, but I didn’t want to dwell on it. I looked around anxiously, avoiding his too-blue eyes, slicked back hair, thick and intimidating eyebrows. The jawbone that could cut glass and the smile that could’ve made someone’s knees buckle from miles away. An aura surrounding him that was so commanding, so strong and overwhelming, that everyone else lived in his shadow. Wherever he went, whichever steps he took. It was strange, though, seeing him without Levi there.

            “How have you been?”

            “Fine,” I replied. I remembered the cuts I’d seen on Levi when he had first returned from their little trip, and I tried to find anything similar on Erwin. But he was as perfect and spotless as always.

            “Relax. You seem on edge.”

            “Really, I do?” In an attempt to make myself shut up, I grabbed the glass of water in front of me and drank from it. He sat, patiently, smiling at me. “Guess I’m just tired.”

            “Sure,” he nodded. “Classes are good?”

            “Mhmm.”

            “Good, good.”

            We fell into an awkward silence. The waiter came around and asked if we wanted bread. Erwin said yes. The waiter left and we were alone in this terrible silence again. I drank more water.

            “How’s Levi?” he asked. Without any warning.

            I nearly choked on my water and had to cover my mouth with the back of my sleeve. His facial expression didn’t change. He kept watching me with that unwavering smile, waiting for me to regain my composure.

            “Levi?” I stuttered. He nodded. “I mean...You would know better than me...”

            “You know what I mean.”

            Of course that was why he had asked me here. I had known it the whole time but it was still a little bit painful to swallow.

            I shrugged.

            “Stressful,” I sighed. I saw no point in lying to Erwin.

            “I guessed as much.”

            “I don’t mind. I knew it would be.” I managed a smile. “Now I’m just waiting for the moment he gets bored, you know?”

            “Eren,” he said, slowly, “do you know why I asked you here?”

            “I guessed that it had something to do with that, but I don’t really know.”

            He didn’t say anything. The bread came to our table and I, realizing that I was starving, ripped off a piece and slathered it with butter. Erwin did the same, though much more gracefully, and we ate in silence for a few minutes. I didn’t know where this conversation was going and I regretted that I wasn’t in my pajamas eating a bowl of cereal with Mikasa and Armin.

            “I suppose you’ve already figured this out, but you really don’t know anything about him,” he said, breaking the silence.

            “You’re right. But I do know a few things,” I replied. “I know that he likes roller coasters and cats and being stupidly spontaneous. I know that he only smokes Camel No.9 cigarettes. I know that he loves _V for Vendetta_ and hates chocolate. I know that he doesn’t smoke before 1 o’clock, and I know that he loves making tea and veggie omelets in the mornings before anyone else is awake. I know he’s terrible at video games but would never admit it. I know that he prefers French literature to English literature. I know that he’s a journalism major but doesn’t really care about journalism that much—he just couldn’t really think of anything else to major in, even though sometimes he likes to write in a notebook just to get his thoughts onto paper. I know that he always has sex with his socks on, even though I don’t know why. Er, sorry, that was probably weird to say. I know that he hardly ever sleeps, but he likes to lie in bed and play with people’s hair when he’s tired. I know every single detail of every single one of his tattoos, especially the wings on his back.”

            Erwin sighed, eyes still fixed on mine. I stared back.

            “You know that’s not what I meant,” he said quietly.

            “I guess not. But even if I don’t know anything about his past or his ambitions, I know about _him_. I don’t know if that makes sense. It makes sense to me.”

            “I’m going to blunt with you, Eren.”

            “Okay...”

            “I told him to break it off with you at the very beginning.”

            “Didn’t everybody?”

            “You’re poison to him.”

            The look on Erwin’s face was terribly, petrifyingly frightening. I straightened my back and caught my breath and felt too hot, too exposed beneath the glistening, intense, ferocious fire of his eyes. His furrowed brow. His tight lips.

            “I...”

            I had no idea what to say.

            “You do know that, don’t you?” he said. I blinked. Silent. “You’re not good for him. And he’s not good for you, for that matter.”

            My heart was pounding. My skin crawling. My voice lost to the fear tingling in my mind.

            “And you should know something. I’m not saying this because I’m vindictive, or because I want you or Levi to be unhappy. Trust me. I’m saying this because it’s true,” he said. He took a deep breath. “Levi will never be completely, truly yours. Never.”

            “I don’t—”

            “Levi is using you. I hate to have to say this to you, but someone needs to. He’s using you and that’s it. He’ll use you as long as he can and when it’s done, you’ll both come out squeezed dry. Do you understand?”

            My jaw open, words and thoughts lost in the storm inside me.

            _Using me._

_Too deep._

_I’m not supposed to be here._

The waiter came and Erwin ordered two plates of spaghetti. While I stared at him and my eyes filled with tears that I hated more than I had ever hated anything.

            “He doesn’t actually care about _you_ ,” Erwin continued. “He cares about what you have to offer him. About the voids you can fill for him. The crazy, nonsensical fantasies he has and the ghosts he can’t escape from. You’re that escape for him. And it’s poison. It’s destroying him. Even if you can’t see it or feel it.”

            “You’re just like everyone else,” I said, my voice cracking. I stared down at my empty plate and gripped the tablecloth. “All you people do is tell me what to do, what not to do. Talk about weird mysterious things and expect me to just _go_ with it as if I don’t deserve to know anything.”

            He sighed again. But he didn’t say anything. He knew that it was my turn to talk.

            “He’s dangerous, he sleeps around, you don’t know about his past. That’s all you people know how to say to me,” I said. “You don’t know how to actually talk to me like I’m a human being that deserves to understand what the fuck is going on.”

            Pause. I couldn’t bear it anymore. My blood was hot, my vision blurring, all of the frustration I had been feeling rising up to my burning tongue.

            “I know how you two met, you know. You bailed him out of jail. You pulled strings to get him out because your dad was the head of the police department. They told me that. Levi told me it was because he was stealing, but I know he was lying.” I finally looked up. Met his eyes. “And I heard you talking about me. That day I went to dinner and forgot my phone. I heard Levi yelling at you. Everybody expects me to just keep living in these shadows without questioning anything. You just tell me I won’t understand and pat my head and leave me in the darkness. It’s not fair. Especially when I’m involved.”

            “You’re right, it’s not fair.”

            “And when you and Levi got back from wherever the fuck you went...I saw him. He was covered in scars. But he tried to tell me it was nothing. I know it’s not nothing.”

            “It’s not nothing.”

            “And I _know_ that Levi isn’t sleeping with anyone else,” I finally said. “I know he’s only sleeping with me. I don’t know why, but I know we’re exclusive. I’m not blind.”

            Our spaghetti arrived, but I wasn’t hungry anymore. Erwin began to eat. Back as straight as ever. Not even a hint of irritation in his face.

            “I’m going to tell you something about Levi, Eren. I’ll explain to you how we met,” he said, “though I’m afraid I can’t tell you much more than that. Truth be told, you pretty much know the gist of it.”

            I managed a forkful of food, but immediately felt like puking it up.

            “I was actually at the department when they brought him in. The police had been searching for him for a while and had finally managed to get him and, when I heard, I wanted to see him for myself. I knew he had to be around my age, and that was intriguing to me. So I went to see who this elusive vigilante was.”

            He ordered a glass of champagne.

            “He looked terrible when I saw him in his cell. All bloodied up. I knew he’d been in some sort of fight. I tried to ask him about it but he told me to piss off. But when I saw him, I just...I don’t know. It felt strange, because even though we were the same age, we were in such different situations. I was in high school then, about to graduate at the top of my class. And here was this kid who had probably been running around the streets for his entire life and gotten into loads of trouble.

            “I asked my dad what was going to happen to him. Most likely life sentence, he said, since Levi was eighteen and they had evidence that he’d murdered a good number of people and committed still other crimes.”

            “ _Murder?”_

“Well, not quite,” Erwin said with a wry smile. “He wasn’t a serial killer or anything like that, don’t worry.”

            “He _murdered_ people?”

            “I guess murder was the wrong word. He’d had to defend himself and ended up killing people in the process, because that’s how things go.” He took a sip of his champagne. “The point is, he was going to be in there for a while. But I told my dad that was a bad idea. I told him that Levi wasn’t a bad person, just somebody born in unfortunate circumstances who’d had to fend for himself. I also told him that Levi might prove useful.”

            “...Useful?”

            “So after a lot of convincing, my father let him out on the condition that I watch him. Which wasn’t easy. Levi wasn’t very cooperative at the start. He didn’t trust me—which is understandable, of course. He’d essentially been betrayed by every single person that he had ever trusted in his life. But eventually he fell in line. I realized he was smart and convinced him to apply to the university I was going to. So we ended up at school together, which was important, since I had to keep an eye on him.”

            I wasn’t sure if Erwin was actually telling the truth or if he was just messing with me for kicks.

            “That’s why you two are so close. And why he pretty much only listens to you,” I said.

            “Yes. In a sense, he owes me his life.”

            “He trusts you.”

            “Yes. And I trust him.”

            “With your life?”

            “With my life, and then some.”

            “But...”

            “Listen. Don’t take what I said the wrong way. Levi’s not some nasty criminal that I took pity on. That’s not how our relationship works.”

            “Then—?”

            “We rely on each other. He’s my anchor, and I’m his. He listens to me, but I would never tell him to do anything he really didn’t want to do.”

            I thought back to the argument I had heard. Remembered Levi yelling.

            “What does any of this have to do with me?” I finally asked, my voice near a whisper. “What does it have to do with using me as an escape, or...whatever the hell you said before.”

            “Levi, as I’m sure you know, has a pretty rough past. Even I don’t know a lot of it,” Erwin said. “But I do know that on the day the police brought him in, something had happened to him that made him willing to come with me. If not happy about it, he at least did it. He was a smart-ass and a jerk for the first few months, but he did it. I think that you...well, to put it truthfully, I think you remind him of somebody he used to know.”

            “Somebody he...?”

            “And I think he feels an instinctive need to be close to you. To protect you.”

            Even Levi had said something like that to me.

            _“It’s this air around you...something I’ve never seen before...like nobody can help but want to protect you.”_

“I think he didn’t realize it at first, so he let you do what you want. I, of course, did realize it. And I tried to stop him. But...you do know what I’m telling you, right, Eren?”

            I looked down. I wished that I didn’t believe a single word he was saying.

            “To Levi, you’re just a figment of his past. You’re pulling him down and intoxicating him and it’s dangerous.”

            “Yeah.”

            “Not to mention dangerous for you,” Erwin continued.

            _There it is._

“You have no idea what he might do to you. Emotionally, mentally...even physically.”

            “Yes I do.”

            “Eren, I don’t think—”

            “I do know. I’ve known since the start. I’ve known the entire time. I know what I’m getting into.”

            Erwin stared at me, holding his glass of champagne.

            “Maybe you’re right. It is dangerous. And I’m in too deep. I know I am. But that won’t change how I feel.”

            “How _do_ you feel?”

            “I...”

            _I think...that I..._

“I don’t know.”

            _I have no fucking clue._

I knew that Erwin was still hiding things from me. There had to be another piece of the puzzle—another reason why they would have let Levi get out of jail, even after the crimes he had committed. There had to be a reason why he and Erwin were disappearing for weeks at a time, only for him to return covered in scratches and bruises. Erwin knew that I knew he was hiding something, and we both silently accepted that there was an elephant in the room that was not going to be addressed. At least not right now.

            “The point is, Levi doesn’t really want you.”

            He might as well have slapped me in the face.

            “And I think you should leave him alone.”

            _Why do people keep telling me what to do?_

“Okay. Thanks for...I don’t know, thanks for telling me, I guess.”

            “It’s only fair that you know the whole story.”

            _Not like I actually do know the whole story._

I knew I was going to cry. I needed to leave. I thanked Erwin for the meal, as he offered to pay, and I told him that I needed to go. He let me leave with a curt nod and a smile and another sip of his champagne. The truth was that I didn’t feel grateful at all, and he knew that. He was not an idiot. He was the exact opposite. On my way back to campus, I called Levi, tears streaming down my face. But I hesitated when I pulled out my phone. Thought for a moment about everything that Erwin had just told me.

            _Using you...murdered...poison._

I dialed his number and wondered if maybe this was the rebellion I had been talking about with Armin.

            “Hello?”

            “Levi...”

            “Hanji was just getting dinner ready, if you wanna come over.”

            “N-no...I ate...”

            “Eren.”

            I sniffled.

            “What happened.”

            “Nothing...I...”

            My voice broke and I knew he could hear me crying.

            “Tell me what the fuck happened.”

            “I just...I don’t know...”

            “Meet me at the parking lot in ten minutes. And for the love of god stop crying.”

            “Okay.”

            So, my tears beginning to freeze against my skin, I walked to the parking lot where his car was.

            _“How_ do _you feel?”_

_How do I feel?_

When I saw Levi waiting for me, leaning against the hood of his car and smoking his cigarette, I knew.

            _I’m in love with him._

_I am desperately, madly in love with Levi._


	25. I Get Awfully Sick

**24**

**I Get Awfully Sick**

 

            I knew that I couldn’t tell Levi that I loved him.

            There was just no point.

            He let me curl up, sniffling and sickly, in the passenger seat while he drove. Window slightly open, cigarette in his mouth as always. This image had become so comforting that it relaxed me just looking at him. Made me feel that I was someplace safe—even as Erwin’s words continued bouncing around in my head. I imagined Levi’s hands, gripping the steering wheel, choking the life out of someone. I thought of how, only a few days ago, he had pinned me down on his couch with fists clenched and teeth bared. But then I remembered how those same fingers felt when they lingered upon my skin, or smoothed my lips, or brushed through my hair. And I was comforted. Levi glanced away from the road for a moment to see me staring at him, dejected and probably pretty pathetic looking. Eyes back on the road, he reached over and ruffled my hair. I closed my eyes and imprinted the feeling of it in my mind.

            “You gonna tell me what happened?”

            I tried very quickly to think of some excuse to give him. Why the hell would I admit to him what Erwin had told me? That would probably have just made him angry or irritated—moods of Levi that I was not willing to bring out at the moment.

            _Maybe it’s better if I tell him the truth?_

“Oi, Eren. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

            “Well...” I heard myself grumble. He moved his hand down to my cheek and pinched it lightly.

            “You’re still crying, babe. Just tell me.”

            “I, um...”

            “Oh, so now you know how to shut up?”

            _Do I tell him?_

“I’m just sick of everything,” I finally stuttered. He pinched my nose for a few seconds, and then put his hands back on the steering wheel.

            “Everyone is.”

            “I just...I don’t really know how I feel about anything anymore.”

            _“The point is, Levi doesn’t really want you.”_

_“He doesn’t actually care about you.”_

_Murder._

“Like what, with your mom? With me?”

            “Everything, just everything.”

            “If you’re sick of me I’ll turn the car around.”

            “No, no, don’t, please,” I stumbled. Before my brain could process the words. He glanced over at me and for a moment I hated him for playing with me like that. I turned away and slumped down in the seat and stared at the road. We were driving toward the city.

            “I just want answers,” I murmured.

            “Ask questions.”

            “Why does everybody tell me to stay away from you?”

            “Because I’m really fucked up.”

            “Why?”

            “I’ve seen and done lots of shit.”

            “Like what?”

            He paused.

            “See, that’s what I mean,” I continued. “Okay, fine, I’ll ask something else. What were you doing before you got arrested?”

            “Living on the streets.”

            “Alone?”

            “No.”

            “Did you go to school?”

            “When I was younger.”

            “When did you stop?”

            “Middle school.”

            “Why?”

            “Didn’t have the means anymore.”

            “What did you do after that?”

            “I told you. Live on the streets.”

            “What were you doing on the streets?”

            “Now you’re just rephrasing the first question,” he sighed.

            “Well, you didn’t answer it.”

            “Why would that change now?”

            “Mikasa told me that you were a thug wanted by the police.”

            His fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

            “Eren.”

            “Why were you wanted by the police? What were you arrested for?”

            “Eren, stop.”

            “Where do you go when you and Erwin disappear?”

            I was losing track of myself. Wasn’t thinking anymore.

            “Eren.”

            “Why did he get you out of jail in the first place?”

            “Eren!”

            “Why do you know about the people that killed my mother?”

            “ _Stop it!”_

“What is so dangerous about you that Erwin essentially threatened me?” I screamed. “Why did he sit me down and look me in the eyes and tell me to stay away from you? Why did he tell me that you’re a _murderer,_ and that you’re just using me to fill some fucked up fantasy of yours?!”

            The car stopped so suddenly and so joltingly that my face nearly hit the windshield. The seatbelt pushed the air from my chest and I coughed, while a car honked behind us. Levi’s face was shadowed, staring at the ground, the cigarette crushed between his teeth. The tears were rushing down my cheeks and my voice was cracking and I hadn’t realized that I had been screaming. And when he looked up at me, with his ice-cold eyes and colorless face, I came back to my senses.

            “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean...” I began to stutter through my sobs, not sure what I could possibly say to fix this situation. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean it, I—”

            I was interrupted by another car honking. Levi reluctantly continued to drive. I didn’t know what else to say so I just sat and let myself cry. Just as we were about to enter the boundaries of the city, he stopped at a gas station. I stayed in the car while he went inside. He came back with more cigarettes, a box of disposable rubber gloves, a pack of beer, cranberry juice, a gallon of water, and a bottle of vodka. I didn’t ask why. Then we continued driving in silence. I didn’t ask where we were going because I didn’t particularly care.

            We pulled into the parking lot of a little hotel that I’d never seen before. With his plastic bags, Levi got out of the car. I followed, hastily wiping the tears with the back of my sleeve. At the reception, Levi told the man that he had a reservation under Ackerman. He gave us the keys and I followed Levi to the elevator and we went up to the room.

            “Go to the bathroom and wash up. You look like a mess.”

            I nodded. We took off our shoes and our jackets and I went into the tiny bathroom and cried for a few more minutes, until I was dry, and then I washed my face. I was surprised that Levi was actually okay being in a place like this because it wasn’t terribly clean. Grime on the sink and the bathtub, sheets clearly not washed very well, windows streaky and curtains dusty. But I was glad we were here anyway. He must have made the reservation after I had called him.

            When I came out of the bathroom, Levi was swirling some liquids around in a cup.

            “Don’t sit on the bed until I clear it off, it’s fucking disgusting. And take off your jeans.”

            He handed me the cup and, with a pair of the disposal rubber gloves, ripped off the top sheets of the bed and tossed them to the corner. The white sheets underneath looked much more clean. I took my pants off and sat down on the bed. I took a sip from the cup. It was vodka and cranberry juice. He poured himself some water, took off his own pants, and sat down beside me.

            “Are you just trying to get me drunk so I don’t ask more questions?” I said.

            “Yes.”

            “It won’t work.”

            “I know.”

            “I’m sorry I said those things.”

            “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

            “Yeah.”

            “It’s mine. And Erwin’s.”

            “He took me to dinner and told me that I’m poisoning you.”

            “You? Poisoning me?”

            “Yeah. He said you’re just using me because of something that happened to you in the past.”

            “That might be true.”

            “Oh.”

            “I don’t think so, though.”

            “You don’t?”

            “No.”

            “Do you care about me?”

            I knew the answer. I knew it because of the phone calls. I knew it because of the way he had looked at me and said, Don’t go after them. I knew it because I was here, in this hotel.

            “Yes.”

            “That’s why you yell at me.”

            “Yeah.”

            “And that’s why you won’t tell me what I want to know.”

            “Mhmm.”

            “So you’re not just using me?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “He told me that you murdered people.”

            Pause.

            Terrible. Infinite. Deafening.

            “I’ve never murdered anyone.”

            “But you’ve killed people.”

            More silence.

            “Why?” I whispered.

            “There were things I needed to protect.”

            “Important things?”

            “More important than anything.”

            “Do you regret it?”

            I knew the answer to that, too.

            “No.”

            “Oh.”

            “I lost it all anyway, so maybe I should regret it. But I don’t.”

            I reached up and touched the tender tattoo on the back of his neck. Still new, still fresh. He held his cup of water and stared down at his feet. I wanted him to light another cigarette.

            “Right. You don’t have any regrets.”

            “None.”

            “I wouldn’t, either. Not if it was for protecting something important to me.”

            “Even if you lost it anyway?”

            “Yeah. Even then.”

            “Maybe you’re as fucked up as I am.”

            I smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile. It trembled, but I managed it. Levi nodded toward the cup in my hands.

            _“There are a lot of skeletons in his closet you don’t want to see.”_

            “Drink up.”

            “What if I don’t wanna get drunk?”

            “Then don’t drink up.”

            I drank.

           

* * *

 

            Vodka, beer, more vodka, more beer.

            Watching him smoke cigarettes as my brain became cloudy and I couldn’t really speak anymore. I heard music and I asked him to turn on the TV, just for the noise. I grabbed his hands and we jumped on the bed together. I was awfully glad that Levi had gotten me drunk. Now I didn’t have to think about anything or anyone, didn’t have to think about my mother or Mikasa’s mother or Levi and his mysterious past or Erwin and his terrifying blue eyes. (He knew that, of course. He always had a knack of knowing what I needed better than I did.) I just had to think about dancing with Levi in this hotel room, surrounded by smoke and falling into a haze. I knew I wouldn’t throw up. Levi wouldn’t allow it.

            Standing on the bed, vision blurry, words slurred, I lifted Levi by the waist and I kissed him. Felt the pressure of his arms around my neck as he kissed me back. I couldn’t see the expression on his face, and I didn’t particularly care. He tasted like cigarettes and it made me horny, I guess because I had come to associate cigarette smoke with Levi—and also because I was shitfaced. I asked him for another beer and he said no.

            “L...Levi—babe—I want y...I want you to _fuck_ me.”

            “I’m not going to fuck you, Eren. You’re too drunk.”

            I collapsed on the bed and dragged him down with me, suffocating him and pulling him into my embrace.

            “I’m not—ah—drunk!” I kissed his forehead over and over and over. “I’mmmmm perfectly sober...”

            He let me hold him.

            I’m not sure why.

            I don’t know why Levi really put up with me that night.

            I don’t know why he gave me beers and mixed drinks for me and let me hold him.

            But he did it, and it was what I needed.

            “Leviiiiiiiii!”

            “What?”

            “I’m sleeeepy.”

            “Oh, no you don’t. I’m sobering you up before you go to sleep.”

            “But I’m tired.”

            “Wanna wake up with a hangover?”

            “Fuuuuck.”

            He forced me to stay awake—made me go out onto the balcony—danced with me—played with my hair and gave me lots of water—put on a movie for me.

            I don’t know how drunk I ended up getting, or what time it was when I was starting to sober up.

            “Feeling all right, Eren?”

            “Mhmm.”

            “Better than before?”

            “Yeah.”

            He helped me go to the bathroom and wash up. He had brought an extra toothbrush and forced me to use it. Then we got under the covers together, but I was still a little bit drunk, so he wouldn’t let me go to sleep. I rested my body in the crook of his arm and ran my fingers along his stomach while he closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillows.

            “I’m sorry you lost your really important thing,” I said.

            He took a deep breath and squeezed my shoulder.

            “I know what that’s like. I lost my really important thing, too.”

            “Shh...”

            “It hurts. It really, really hurts.”

            We sat like that for a while. Every time I was close to falling asleep Levi would smack my cheek and yell at me. Until I had essentially sobered up (it must have been really early in the morning).

            “Thanks, Levi.”

            He responded with a kiss to my forehead.

            We curled up under the covers, and I rested my head on his chest. Moving up and down with his steady, musical breaths. I felt my eyelids begin to droop, felt slumber take over my senses. I wiggled my fingers, reaching up until he intertwined his fingers with mine. As I closed my eyes, he kissed my knuckles, while his other hand drew patterns on my bare shoulder.

            “Sleepy?” he murmured.

            “Mm.”

            I wrapped both my legs around his beneath the sheets and pulled myself in tighter, until I felt that I really could fall asleep and never wake up. His breath fell upon my head and my consciousness started to fade.

            “Hey. Eren.”

            “Mm?”

            “Do you believe in God?”

            I thought about the answer for a few moments—as well as I could through the fogginess in my mind.

            “Only when I’m lying here with you.”

            I basked in the simplicity, in his warmth, in the way he squeezed me more tightly when I said that. He kissed my knuckles again, and there was desperation in his lips. He kissed them again, and again, and again, each time pressing his lips for longer.

            _I realized something, Levi._

_No, that’s wrong._

_I remembered something._

_I don’t care if you’re just using me._

_Use me until you’ve gotten everything you can._

            Then I was asleep, and the last thing I heard was my name falling from his tongue.

 

* * *

 

            I was on edge for the next few weeks. Winter break (and final exams for the semester) was fast approaching, I needed to start working harder, I wasn’t sure what my plans were for Christmas and New Year’s, and, as always, I was still in the dark when it came to Levi. It wasn’t as pitch black as it had once been, but I was still fumbling, still had no idea where I was. It wasn’t that I had fewer questions—but I think that I knew the right questions to ask now. It was frustrating and ridiculous and it was driving me insane. The truth, and how accurately it was evading me, started to fill every single blank space in my mind. I knew that if it were to go on like this, I would slowly lose my mind.

            But, of course, I had known the risks when I had given myself to him.

            When I had sacrificed myself to his whims, his secrets, his shadows and his dark pasts, for the moments of unparalleled bliss and completeness I found in him.

            I learned quickly that being able to anticipate something really has nothing to do with whether you can actually handle it. Like knowing you’re about to be whipped, but screaming in pain anyway.

            I still didn’t tell him that I loved him.

            Not yet.

            And I avoided Erwin Smith at all costs, which meant being very careful when I wanted to see Levi because they were so often together. But I think both he and Levi were aware that I didn’t want to see or talk to him (for the sake of my sanity), so they made things easy for me. Thinking back on it, I truly hadn’t been expecting Erwin to be so...ruthless, I guess, is the only word to describe it. Whenever I thought back to our dinner, my heart felt suffocated and I needed to close my eyes and find myself in the turmoil of my thoughts again. I spent most of my time with Armin and Mikasa, letting them ground me and motivate me to study. Mikasa didn’t talk about her mother at all, so Armin and I didn’t bring it up. We knew she was hurting, and we didn’t want her to hurt more.

            On the Friday two weeks after Levi and I had gone to the hotel, I slept over at his place. I was exhausted and not in the mood to go out like we sometimes did on Fridays, so he let me lay around on his couch and Hanji made me ravioli. We talked, though I can’t really remember what we talked about. I was concentrating very hard on the image of Levi sitting on the sofa, reading a book and sipping his tea. After Hanji went to bed, I clambered beside him and whispered his name. He glanced at me, but then continued to read. He was teasing me and I knew it. I began to kiss his neck. He made no moves to resist or stop me. I pushed my tongue against his salty skin and drew figure eights, dragging my tongue and grazing his neck with my teeth. I swiped it toward the center, just below his chin. Moved it up, swiveled it, sucked on his skin and bit down until I knew it would leave a mark and I could hear him gasp. He leaned his head back and let the book he was holding fall to his lap.

            With a kiss to his bruised skin, I pulled away and grabbed his hand. He was watching me, so I watched him. I brought the tips of his fingers to my parted lips and kissed them. He moved them along the line of my lips. I opened them more widely and laced my tongue along his skin. Wrapped it around the slender, quivering fingers that were sliding deeper into my mouth. I closed my eyes and I took them in, moving my tongue in circles, between his fingers and along the top of his palm.

            “Eren...”

            I opened my eyes, slowly, making sure that he was watching. Then I moved my hand down and pressed it up against his crotch. I saw his body respond, saw his mouth open, saw the flutter of his eyelids, and I reached up for his lips. But just before they met his, he turned his face away, leaving me only his cheek.

            “Levi?”

            “I’m...not in the mood.”

            “Oh. Um, okay.”

            _You seemed pretty in the mood a second ago._

I pulled away and just sat beside him. He continued to read. I decided to brush my teeth and get into bed. As I walked past his desk, I glanced at the photos again. They were so simple and nice. I sat down on his desk to look at them more closely. I wanted to take in every single detail. Even the one with Erwin—I wondered how soon after they’d met it had been taken. It had to at least have been a few months, maybe a year. They looked comfortable with each other.

            Hoping that Levi wouldn’t come in, I grabbed the picture of him with his two other friends. Isabel and Farlan. I wondered why he never talked about them, except for when he had shown me the little hilltop and the lake. Just the fact that the picture was on his desk meant a lot, I assumed. He didn’t have many. Then, as I was returning the picture to its place, another caught my eye. One that hadn’t been there the last time I had checked.

            It was me.

            Levi was on my back, his head on my shoulder, arm outstretched to take the picture. I was staring at the camera with bright eyes and red cheeks and my smile was very toothy, reached from ear to ear. While he was stoic and calm on my back. The picture he had taken at the bus stop that day. Gentle, glistening snowflakes surrounded us. A laugh was caught in my throat while I looked at it.

            Just before I curled up in bed, knowing that Levi wouldn’t be joining any time soon (but not knowing why), I took one last look at the picture of Levi, Farlan, and Isabel. And as I looked at it, I found myself confused.

            I couldn’t tell if Isabel’s eyes were blue or green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "when a man with fabulous eyebrows tells you to fuck off, the best course of action is to get drunk as hell"
> 
> \--Levi Ackerman at some point probably


	26. I'm A Masochistic Asshole

**25**

**I’m A Masochistic Asshole**

 

            Now we’ve come full circle.

            _I love you._

To the moment I told Levi that I loved him.

            _I don’t want to lose you._

When he read me poetry and caressed my head in his lap. And the words had flowed so naturally, unavoidable, from my hungry lips. And he looked me in the eyes and told me that he didn’t love me, that he would never love me. A lie, straight through his teeth.

            “I love you, Levi.”

            “You have no idea what that word means.”

            “I love you so much.”

            “I cannot fall in love with you.”

            “So much that it hurts, Levi.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            The first apology I’d ever heard from him, uttered because I was sobbing on his couch because he wouldn’t admit to me that he loved me, even though I knew that he did. I tried to think back to all the things he’d said to me and find hidden I Love You’s. I tried to remember what my reasoning had been in the first place—why had I sacrificed myself so willingly knowing that this crash was coming? Why had I given him my heart, my soul, my body? For the salvation of his tongue on my skin, his breaths falling upon my eager lips, his heartbeat swelling against my chest? Or for the days that he stroked my hair and took me to the hilltops to fly and settled himself on my back beneath the snow? Or maybe for the moments when he didn’t know I was watching. When he was leaning out the window and smoking his cigarette, his wings fluttering.

            I couldn’t find an answer, but I knew that it was there somewhere.

            I wondered what his reasoning was, too.

 

* * *

 

            Two days after I told Levi that I loved him, he told me that he didn’t want to see me anymore. There was no warning. He didn’t try to justify it. He just said we were through.

            “Don’t text, don’t call, don’t come over unless I’m not here.”

            I was so shocked that I couldn’t even feel angry—couldn’t cry a single tear—for a week. At which point, in the library with Jean, Marco, Mikasa, and Armin, I burst into uncontrollable tears, disturbing everyone there trying to study for their finals. The whip I had been expecting finally cracked down against my back, and it hurt more than I ever imagined it would.

            “What a dick move—right before finals!” Jean said.

            “Plenty of fish in the sea, Eren,” Marco said.

            “Let’s order pizza. My treat!” Armin said.

            Mikasa didn’t say anything. She knew there was nothing she could say, except for maybe ‘I told you so,’ but she wasn’t so heartless.

            I asked them all to let me be for the weekend, and they complied without arguments, complete with downcast expressions and pitying eyes. I locked myself away in my room, curled up in my sheets listening to music and waiting for the bouts of tidal waves in my eyes. Ebbing and flowing, waxing and waning, coming when I least expected it and then disappearing just as quickly. Jean, even when he was in the room, left me alone, except when he asked if I needed anything. More tissues, ice cream, a blow-job? Usually my answer was to ask him to kindly fuck off.

            I wasn’t sure what to do. I was completely lost. I had given myself away. That for which I had sacrificed everything was gone now and I was gone with it. There was nothing else for me to fill my brain space with besides Levi, nothing else for me to crave except for him. I wanted to hear his voice, hold his hand. I wanted to look him in the eyes and hear him say my name, the way he always did when there wasn’t really anything else to say. I wanted him to call me, out of the blue, in the middle of the night, and ask me to stay on the phone with him without even speaking. I wanted to kiss him until our lips were dry and we couldn’t breathe. I wanted to hold him until he was the only thing I could smell. I wanted to drive out to the middle of nowhere and fuck in his car. I wanted him to take me to all of the secret places so that they could mean to me what they meant to him.

            In short, I wanted everything that I couldn’t have.

            Hanji tried to call me, but I didn’t answer. They sent me a message offering to make me dinner. I ignored it. Petra texted me. I ignored her, too. Krista and Ymir knocked on my door to ask if I needed anything, but I pretended to be asleep. Reiner, Bertholt, and Connie asked me if I wanted to play video games with them. I didn’t respond. I hated myself for ignoring the people around me, who cared about me and were trying to help me, but I didn’t have the energy. At least, not right then. I knew myself, and I knew that I needed time and space to do nothing but mourn. Mourn that the day I had been anxiously dreading was finally here and it was ripping me apart from the inside out.

            One night I had a nightmare. An agonizing, terrifying nightmare that felt so real that I stayed awake, shaking in fear, for the rest of the night.

            The beginning of the nightmare was the same one I had had countless times since the day my mother died—just the memory of it. My brain forcing me to relive the terror of walking into my house that day and realizing that I had lost everything. But this time, when I walked into my mother’s bedroom and saw her mangled corpse on the bed, there was someone else there. In the corner, sharpening a knife. At first the person was faceless, dwelling in the shadows. But as I stared at them, they walked into the dusty light. It was Levi, his face contorted into a twisted a smile. He turned around and showed me the tattoo on the back of his neck. It was different, not the same tattoo that I myself had watched him get—it was a skull and roses. I tried to scream, but my voice had left me. Then, knife in hand, Levi walked up to me. I was paralyzed. He reached down and cut my heart right out of my chest, ripped it out, and crushed it in his bloody fingers.

            I woke up drowning in my sweat, forcing myself to quiet down for fear of waking up Jean. I felt a breakdown coming, so I closed my eyes and took deep breaths. Tried to think of something happy, anything that would help me calm down and erase the images from my mind. Trembling, I found myself thinking about Hermann Hesse’s poetry. I repeated some of my favorite lines, over and over, until the panic passed as I was able to sink back down in my bed. Not able to fall asleep, of course, but able to at least avoid a complete loss of self.

            The next day, just when my friends were probably starting to think that I would live the rest of my days in the stale darkness of my room, I called Mikasa. It was late and I had been gathering the strength to do it all day.

            “Eren. How are you?”

            “Terrible. Are you busy?”

            “No.”

            “Will you spar with me?”

            “What?”

            “I want to spar with you. Will you spar with me?”

            “Whatever you want.”

            I put on shorts and a t-shirt and waited. Mikasa came by, an extra pair of handwraps in tow and wearing the red scarf I had given her (she hadn’t taken it off since that day), and we went to the gym. Even though it was past ten, the gym was open 24/7. We were the only ones there. Mikasa led me to the corner—where I had seen her and Levi practicing with each other. It seemed like it had been so long ago. I swallowed back the wave of agony and longing and warmed up. She helped me put my handwraps on. I wasn’t very experienced. I couldn’t explain to her when she asked why I felt the sudden need to spar. I just did. She was looking at me with glistening eyes, as if she could tell exactly what I was thinking before I even thought it. I didn’t bother trying to act like I was okay. But I didn’t want to burden Mikasa with it. She was surely suffering more than I was.

            “Okay, we’ll start off slow,” she said once we were ready. She didn’t even take off the scarf then. “Throw a few punches.”

            My body didn’t respond when my mind said, Slow.

            I threw the biggest hook that I possibly could, taking a step forward. Mikasa’s eyes stared straight at my chest. Without even looking away, she ducked beneath my arm. I instinctively threw a punch with my other hand, but she lifted her arm to block it, push it away. Bared, clenched teeth and tense muscles, I took another step forward and aimed my fist at her nose. She slipped just out of the way, but her palm against my wrist, and pushed me away with a light jump back. I stumbled, but threw the next punch as soon as I had just barely found my footing. She didn’t tell me to calm down, didn’t ask me what I was doing, didn’t complain or question. She just watched my punches, avoided them, ducked and swerved and kept her hands up. While I punched wildly, letting the frustration pulse through my veins. Anyone who didn’t know us might have thought that I was out to kill her.

            “Mikasa!” I screamed, growing irritated. “Fight back!”

            “I don’t want to hurt you.”

            “ _Fight back!”_

I reached out to grab her hair. Not in control of my body. I saw a distortion in her features. As if for a moment she felt pain. Not physical pain, of course.

            Before my fingers could clench her hair, she blocked my hand with the side of her arm. Then she stepped forward and shoveled her fist up into my gut.

            “Protect with the hand that’s not punching.”

            I gasped for breath, meekly throwing another punch. She ducked beneath it and brought her fist straight to my chin.

            “Don’t punch again before you’re ready.”

            A metallic taste in my mouth, I aimed for her nose again. She slipped to the side, grabbed my arm, and pulled me down. Brought her knee up into my stomach. I coughed and fell to my knees, eyesight blurring.

            “Know your enemy.”

            She let go of me and took a step back, hands on her hips. Gasping, I looked up at her, one hand on the ground, the other clutching my aching stomach.

            “Why did you stop?” I demanded. She blinked at me. “I’m on the ground. Isn’t this when you go for the kill?”

            “Eren...”

            “ _Fight me!”_

I jumped to my feet, with a new surge of adrenaline, and ran at her. Fists flying. She breathed out, flexing her stomach, and took one of my punches. It felt like punching a wall. Then brought her elbow into my face, throwing another punch up into my liver.

            “ _Don’t stop!”_

With the same hand, she sent a hook to my chin. I managed to block her other hook, to which she responded with another knee to the stomach.

            “You need this just as much as I do!”

I could only taste blood. I was becoming numb to the punches now. Numb to the throbbing in my stomach and my nose. Numb to the unbearable pain. All of it.

            Finally, I couldn’t anymore.

            I stumbled backward and fell, leaning against the wall, unable to move even a single muscle. Mikasa stood over me, breathing heavily. I could hear my own panting. It was hoarse and raspy, and I could feel the blood dripping from the corner of my mouth. Tears spilled from my eyes—whether they were from the physical pain or the emotional pain, I’m not sure. I sat there, desperate to catch my breath, while Mikasa crouched down in front of me. I realized that there were tears in her eyes, too.

            “Oh, Eren...”

            “You’re terrifying,” I said with a feeble smile. She closed her eyes.

            Then she opened them and grabbed my hand. She began to undo the wrap (which hadn’t done me much good), letting her coarse fingers run across my skin. Then she grabbed my other hand and did the same. But she didn’t let go when she was done. She sat, holding it, and just stared at it. I watched her face. Watched her crystal tears and her crystal sweat in the too-bright light of this big, empty gym. I knew she was thinking about her mother. I knew that was why her punches had been so merciless—once I had finished screaming at her. There was so much rage and frustration and despair in her.            

            “I’m in horrible shape,” I murmured.

            “Yeah, you are.”

            “Thanks for doing what I asked, though.”

            She didn’t say anything. She just squeezed my hand more tightly.

            “I bet I look disgusting.”

            “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Just very hurt.”

            She helped me to my feet and we went back to my room. Jean wasn’t there. She waited patiently and calmly on my bed while I went, limping, to take a shower and wipe the blood from my skin. I came back, having successfully rid myself of the dry blood and tears, and Mikasa was still on my bed. Still wearing that scarf, hair falling in her face, reading through the book of poetry. She looked up at me gently when I walked in.

            “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

            “Don’t apologize. I asked you to,” I shrugged. “We both needed it. And I don’t want you to baby me all the time.”

            I knew my words wouldn’t really make a difference, and that Mikasa would continue to baby me regardless.

            I put on a clean t-shirt and sat down on the bed next to her, towel on my wet hair. I saw her fingers tighten around the spine of the book.

            _“You know who you should be with? Mikasa. She’s really in love with you, you know.”_

“You put up with a lot of things from a lot of people,” I said quietly. She looked up at me, eyes as hard as usual. The gentleness was gone, the tears gone.

            “I only put up with what I know is worth putting up with,” she replied.

            “I’m worth putting up with?”

            “Of course.”

            “Is Levi worth putting up with?”

            She paused. And then, “Yes. Because he’s my family.”

            “How did your mom die?”

            “She was stabbed.”

            “By who?”

            “I don’t know.”

            I knew she wasn’t lying to me, but I knew she wasn’t telling me the whole truth. I didn’t press it. I leaned back against the wall and hugged my legs to my chest.

            “Mikasa?” I whispered.

            “Yes?”

            “Are you in love with me?”

            She stared at me wordlessly for a few moments, before tearing her eyes away toward the ground. She grabbed the sheets of the bed, her nails digging into the mattress. I saw her muscles quiver. And I felt the most awful, most inexplicable sense of guilt.

            And then I felt overwhelming affection.

            I leaned forward and said her name again. When she turned to look at me, I cupped her chin in my fingers and brought my gaze to her lips. I saw her eyes flutter closed, and I kissed her. Some twisted sense of relief washed over me, and I kissed her harder. She grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me in, opening her mouth just slightly. I slid my tongue between her salty lips, sucked on them gently, and my hand drifted down to her chest...down her stomach...to her inner thighs...

            But then she pushed me away.

            “Eren, stop...” she said, her voice cracking. Her breathing patchy. “Please.”

            “What’s wrong?” I whispered. My lips hovering above hers.

            “You don’t want this,” she continued, shaking her head. “You don’t actually want this.”

            “What are you talking about?”

            “You miss Levi. You’re just looking for some way to fill the void—I’m sorry, Eren, but I can’t fill it for you. I won’t do that to you. And I won’t do that to myself.”

            “I...You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

            I leaned against the wall again and buried my face in my hands. I hated myself terribly. She was right, of course. Completely right. I had imagined Levi when I had kissed her. I had craved the same distorted affection that I felt building inside me.

            “I’m so sorry,” I repeated. “I’m so sorry.”

            “Maybe it’s for the best that he broke it off,” she said.

            “Maybe. But even if it is, it’ll never feel like it.”

            She got up and turned out the lights.

            “Mikasa?”

            “Yes?”

            “Will you at least hold me?”

            “Of course. Of course.”

            She held me beneath the covers and stroked my hair. In the same way that Levi had. I cried against her until I had no energy left, until my heartbeat fell into rhythm with her breaths. Imagining that it was Levi holding me.

            And hating myself for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see prologue for reference
> 
> sorry but y'all knew it was coming


	27. I See Him Everywhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if any of you have had a broken heart before, but if you have, then you know how terrible it feels. Your sadness becomes the only thing you can think about, and you start asking yourself what happened and hating yourself for the smallest things. Even if it's not your fault, you blame yourself. It can feel like being really physically sick. 
> 
> Well, that being said, here's the next chapter, featuring our little broken-hearted hero. 
> 
> xoxo

**26**

**I See Him Everywhere**

 

            I saw his outline in my bed and on my pillow and in my doorframe and against my body. I felt his fingertips against my lips and the trembling skin of my arm and down my spine. I caught his silhouette lurking, watching me, in the shadowy corners of every place I went to. Sometimes, if the world and my whirring brain were quiet enough, I could hear his voice saying my name. I fell in love with him more every single day—more every hour, more every minute, more every single fucking second. The distance from him was pointless. It made me love him more. The mere thought of him, the image of him in the darkness when I closed my eyes, was enough to make me sick with longing, sick with desire, sick with love. Every time my phone buzzed I grew nauseated, thinking about the possibility that it might be him and then crashing when it wasn’t. Maybe, in the end, he was right. Maybe I really didn’t know what love meant. Maybe this was some weird twisted delusion that I was calling love because I had no other name for it. No other name for wanting to hold someone’s hand and memorize every detail of it. No other name for wanting to fall knowing that someone else will catch you. No other name for craving someone’s lips the way an alcoholic craves the taste of liquor on their tongue.

            Finals came and went.

            I tried to move on.

            I really did.

            I managed to at least make it seem to everyone else that I was okay.

            (Everyone except Armin and Mikasa, of course.)

            I hung out with people and I studied and I managed to do well on my finals. I smiled and I laughed and I made jokes. Sometimes being surrounded by my friends, by people who cared about me, really did make me forget for maybe a few hours. I went to a lot of parties and I drank a lot of alcohol because it made my brain hazy and I couldn’t think about him even if I tried. But I never really forgot. I was never really free of the sudden emptiness that permeated every cell of my body. My friends expressed being worried about my new habits, as they helped me to my room and apologized for stupid things I’d said or done when I was shitfaced. But it was fine. Going out to all the parties only lasted for a few weeks, and then not even being pissed out of my brain helped me distract myself from him.

            I know it seems strange. After all, we had only been together for a few months. I had only met him at the beginning of the semester. How had I possibly had time to fall so far, so deep? How was I justified in saying that I loved him so much that my tongue was dry and my skin pale when he wasn’t with me? How could I explain the fact that when he had told me to leave, I had felt my heart shriveling and had sat in my room for three days with no company but my tears?

            I don’t know. Even now.

            I can’t explain any of it.

            He somehow managed to avoid me. As in, I didn’t see him once. Of course I avoided going to his apartment, though I did meet up with Hanji and Petra a few times. (We didn’t mention him at all.) But it was as if he disappeared from campus—which he could have. I had no way of proving otherwise. I knew Mikasa was in contact with him but I didn’t ask her about him and she didn’t bring it up. After the first few weeks of melancholic agony, I tried to accept that he was gone and push the little traces of him out of my life.

            It didn’t work.

            One night, I was in my room studying. It was Saturday. I had my first final exam on Monday and I was struggling to move past the water in my eyes and the perpetual skips in my heart so that I could study. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but it must have been late. It took me a few hours alone just to motivate myself to get out of bed and study. I pretended that he was in the next room, reading a French book and smoking a cigarette and that he would bring me a cup of tea in a little bit. I even convinced myself that I could smell the smoke.

            My phone began to ring. I usually put it on silent when I studied, except if someone called me. Desperate, scrambling, my pulse exceeding normal rates, I grabbed my phone and looked at the flashing screen.

            Of course it wasn’t him.

            I answered anyway.

            “Hello?”

            “Eren! Thank goodness you’re awake. I need your help.”

            “It’s late...what’s up?”

            “It’s Jean. He’s a total mess. I don’t wanna bother you but—”

            “Where are you? On my way.”

            “You’re the greatest!”

            I forced myself to put on my shoes and a jacket because I remembered the times that I had gotten shitfaced and Jean had dragged me back to my room. Headphones in my ears, hands in my pockets, hood over my head, I began walking toward the place Marco had told me they were waiting. Sure enough, they were standing in the snow, outside of a fraternity house. Marco had Jean’s arm around his shoulder and Jean was flailing around, screaming incomprehensibly, very obviously drunk out of his goddamn mind. Poor Marco looked terribly exhausted and terribly exasperated. I could see the relief in his eyes when he saw me pull out my headphones and walk up to them.

            His arms on our shoulders, we took Jean back to our room, because it was closer than Marco’s. By the time we got there, Jean had moved from his excited and loud drunken state to his tired, babbling drunken state. He was so heavy that even the two of us could hardly carry him in a straight line. When we finally got back to my room, we put him in some pajamas, put a glass of water on the desk, and got him into my bed (it would have been impossible to get him to the top bunk). I sat back down at my desk and Marco collapsed, with an audible sigh, onto the bed beside Jean. He smiled at me and I gave a shaky smile back. As we caught our breath, Marco looked at Jean, passed out, and ran his fingers through his hair. Marco looked at him with eyes shimmering, a soft smile. The way that maybe I used to look at Levi. I felt sick and turned away.

            “Thanks for your help, Eren.”

            “Sure.”

            “I know sometimes you and Jean don’t get along.”

            “Nah. He’s a tool but he’s my friend.” I stared at the pages of my textbook. “Besides, he’s helped me out a lot.”

            “Yeah...”

            “Say, Marco.”

            “What’s up?”

            “Are you in love with him?”

            I looked back at him and saw his freckled face covered in red, his fingers frozen in Jean’s hair, his eyes wide. I hadn’t expected to take him so off-guard with the question.

            “Uh...well...I don’t know.”

            “Oh.”

            “I’ve never been in love before, so I guess I don’t know what it’s like,” he laughed.

            I nodded and looked away again. Though I wasn’t looking at anything.

            “I mean...I don’t know if it’s love, but I do know that I want to be with him,” he continued. “I want it more than anything. Is that love?”

            “How the fuck should I know.”

            “Like, if someone were to offer me ten million dollars if I left him, even just for this moment, I wouldn’t do it.”

            “Even if it were just for this moment?”

            “Yeah. I wouldn’t leave his side for anything.”

            I raised my eyebrows at him, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore. He was looking back at Jean. Stroking his cheeks. I felt sick again.

            “Aren’t you annoyed?” I heard myself ask. “I mean, when he pulls shit like this—doesn’t it piss you off?”

            “Sometimes,” he shrugged. “But that’s okay. Being pissed off is normal. Making mistakes is normal.”

            “Jean can be really shitty. Hasn’t he ever said something so terrible that you’ve wanted to leave?”

            “You’re right, he has said some terrible things. But I’ve never wanted to leave.”

            “Why?”

            “I told you, I just want to be with him,” Marco smiled. “And besides, he always apologizes in the end.”

            “You’ve never wanted to leave him _once_?”

            “No. I can’t say the same for him, though.”

            “Really?”

            “Yeah. We don’t fight that often, and when we do it’s usually pretty one-sided...Jean can get heated and yell a lot. Sometimes he tells me that he wants to leave me. That being together isn’t worth the pain.”

            “Oh, come on. What kind of pain could a couple like _you_ have?” I said. Much ruder than I had meant to be. But Marco just smiled.

            “You’d be surprised. Everybody has their issues, even a couple like us.”

            “What do you do when he says things like that?”

            “I let him run his mouth. I give him space. I know he doesn’t actually mean it. If he doesn’t come around within a few days, I’ll tell him to get his act together and stop being silly.”

            “And it’s fixed? Just like that?”

            “Sure.”

            “Why don’t you just leave him alone when he says that to you? I mean, if he says he doesn’t wanna be with you anymore, shouldn’t you...let him be?”

            “Maybe I should. But I won’t ever do that,” Marco said. “I care about him too much for that. Even if he wanted to leave, I probably wouldn’t let him.”

            He laughed as if it were a joke, but it didn’t sound like one to me. After he fell asleep I wondered why I couldn’t call Levi and tell him to get his act together and stop being silly. I wondered why I had let him leave in the first place, and I cried until I couldn’t see two feet in front of me.

* * *

 

            I applied for housing to stay on campus over winter break. Mikasa and Armin did, too. None of us really had any place we were desperate to get back to and we would have preferred celebrating the holidays together, so we stayed at school even as other students left to their homes and their families and I still had no idea what Levi Ackerman was doing. When we gathered on the edge of the lake on Christmas Eve, watching the stars and the snow fall, I had lost track of how long it had been since I’d seen his face or heard his voice. It hadn’t been that long—a few weeks, maybe—but it seemed like an eternity. I tried really, really hard to think about this moment. Arms interlinked with my best friends, watching a large Christmas tree light up on the other side of lake. I tried to focus on the light in Armin’s eyes and the way he pointed, like a child, screaming Merry Christmas. On the way Mikasa’s fingers wrapped around my arm and her head rested on my shoulder and she said to me, in her smooth quiet voice while she wore her red scarf, Merry Christmas, Eren. It was her first Christmas without her mother and she woke up that night sobbing and apologizing for not being strong enough.

            “You’re the strongest person I know,” I assured her. I truly had no idea how she was able to put up with the likes of me. She smiled at me and then pulled out her phone and went out into the hall and I knew she was calling Levi.

            I had always imagined spending Christmas with him. It was his birthday, after all. I had a present for him. I had bought it about a month ago, back when I had assumed he would be by my side tonight. I might not ever be able to give it to him, I thought to myself. And I worked so hard to figure out what to get him. I wondered what he was doing. Hanji probably made him a cake. Erwin was probably there, too, forcing a little party hat onto Levi’s reluctant head. Petra was singing to him, and Mike was pouring wine for everyone except for him. There was a Christmas tree in the corner that Levi had been very hesitant to get because he was worried it would get pine needles and dirt on the floor. In the end he didn’t mind it—the lights were nice. He also wouldn’t eat any of the cake because he didn’t like sweet things, so he just sat in the corner with his party hat and his cigarette, smiling slightly as they sang off-key and got drunk for his birthday. And I, of course, wasn’t there.

            _way too fucking deep_

I was trying to climb out of the abyss I had thrown myself into but it was impossible.

            I was in way too fucking deep.

            Between Christmas and New Year’s, we spent our days running around the city and our nights watching movies in my room. Jean had gone home so I had it all to myself. And in those days I felt a crushing love for Mikasa and Armin. Their voices and their genuine, affectionate smiles burrowed into my still trembling heart and made me warm. They forced a smile to my lips and a laugh to my voice. Even though Mikasa was fussy and overprotective (and I realized that just being around me must have been painful for her). And even though Armin could be too complicated and say things that went way over my head. They knew me better than I knew myself—knew what I needed, even after these weeks of being drained by his absence. They took my emotions as they ran their stormy course and caressed them, reminding me that I was very, very loved. When I was with them, my smiles were real. Mikasa and Armin made feel really lucky.

            New Year’s, like Christmas, was quiet. We didn’t even leave the room. We sat on the floor of my room and talked, playing Christmas music because Armin still hadn’t grown sick of it. We counted down together and hugged each other and kissed each other when the clock struck midnight and we entered the new year. We covered ourselves with a giant blanket and huddled close. Not because we were cold but because we loved each other. Armin fell asleep in my lap and Mikasa fell asleep sprawled on top of him but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t fall asleep. I was exhausted and drained of energy, but my mind wouldn’t let me sleep. So I sat beneath the covers staring at my door, wondering what I would do if Levi walked in at that moment, without warning. The way he used to do.

            Mikasa’s phone started to ring in the middle of the night. I had managed to fall into a very light doze, but all three of us, sprawled in every direction on the floor, were woken up by the loud ringing. Babbling with incoherent apologies and freeing herself from our vice-like grips, Mikasa grabbed her phone and stood up.

            “Hello?”

            Armin fell right back asleep, wrapping his legs around mine and burying his face in my arm. I blinked, staring up at Mikasa as she paced the room.

            “Hanji, I know it’s New Year’s, but it’s still the middle of the night,” she said groggily. She was silent for a period, and then glanced at me. Eyes piercing, even in the darkness. I blinked, but said and did nothing.

            “Wait, _what?”_

            Pause.

            “Is he—Hanji, what the fuck?”

            Pause again.

            “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

            Pause. Longer this time.

            “Just tell him to go to sleep.”

            Pause. They were talking about Levi.

            “I really don’t think—”

            Pause. Cut off.

            “Yeah, he’s...he’s right here...”

            Pause. They were talking about me now. I gently moved out of Armin’s grasp and sat up.

            “Where are you? Let me come over,” she said. I tilted my head and shrugged at her. She ignored me, while still looking right at me. “What do you mean he doesn’t want me to?”

            Pause.

            Sigh.

            “Fine...”

            Mikasa walked up to me, crouched down until she was eye-level with me, and handed me the phone. I furrowed my brow, and she sighed again, and my heart stopped.

            “Levi wants to talk to you.”


	28. I Keep Digging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello from the other siiiiiiiiideeeee

**27**

**I Keep Digging**

 

            My hands were shaking terribly as I whisked the phone from Mikasa. I was wide awake now. I jumped to my feet, unable to decode my scrambled thoughts, and put the phone to my ear.

            “Hello? Levi?”

            “Hey, Eren.”

            “H...Hi...” My voice cracked despite myself. The sound of his voice, muffled through the phone lines and so far away, made me see stars. I felt dizzy with relief and a strange combination of happiness and fear.

            “How have you been?” he asked. His voice wasn’t how I remembered it. At first I thought it was just because it had been so long since I’d heard it, but I realized then that that wasn’t it. His voice was hoarse and breathy—as if he were struggling or in pain but trying very hard to hide it. It was catching in his throat, slowly making its way through the phone and into my eager ears.

            “I miss you,” I said. I heard him sigh.

            “Yeah?”

            “A lot.”

            “I know.”

            I tried to respond but my voice wouldn’t work, so I collapsed onto the bed and just held the phone with both hands.

            “You idiot,” Levi continued. His voice softer. “You’re still exactly where I left you.”

            “I keep trying to get out but I can’t,” I said. I wondered if he knew how pained my smile was. “Not even a little bit. Everything’s the same except that you’re not here anymore.”

            “Stop it.”

            “...Sorry.”

            “Eren, you hopeless fool.”

            “I’m...” I paused. I wanted to ask why he had called. I wanted to ask why he wanted to talk to me, despite Mikasa’s protests. But the only thing I managed to say was, “I’m so happy to hear your voice again.”

            I heard someone yelling in the background. I couldn’t tell who it was. Maybe Hanji. Maybe Erwin. Maybe someone completely different.

            “Yeah?” Levi said. He was about to say something else, but he began to cough. Uncontrollably. I gripped the phone more tightly.

            “Levi? Are you okay?” I said.

            “I’m...fine...” he replied, pausing between his words to breathe.

            “No, you’re not.”

            “Tell me about your Christmas.”

            “My...what?”

            “Still as deaf as ever. Tell me about your Christmas.”

            I was reminded of the time he had called me at six in the morning and asked me to stay on the phone with him. He had acted similarly. I was awfully confused. From what I could tell from Mikasa’s conversation with Hanji, he had been insistent on speaking with me—was it really just to ask me about my Christmas?

            “Is that really why you wanted to talk to me?”

            “Yes.”

            “You’re lying.”

            “What else is new?”

            “Please talk to me,” I said. The desperation was clear in my voice. “Please, I’m begging you...I don’t understand anything.”

            There was silence for an awfully long time as I gripped the phone and bit my lip and trembled.

            “Why do you suddenly want to talk to me out of the blue after avoiding me for weeks?” I whispered. He still didn’t respond. I forced myself to smile, even though he couldn’t see it. “Well, my Christmas was good. I spent it with Armin and Mikasa. We went to the lake to watch the big Christmas tree. I still have a birthday present for you. Happy belated birthday, by the way.”

            “You bought me a present?”

            “Yeah. I mean, I bought it a long time ago...”

            “How did your finals go?”

            “Good. I passed.”

            “That’s good.”

            We fell into silence again. Every word of the conversation was dripping with tension. There was still commotion in the background, and he was still coughing and breathing heavily. I knew there was something going on there, and I knew that there was a specific reason he was calling. Just like last time—there had to have been something specific. Some reason. Some strange desire within him to call me. Ask me about mundane things. Just to hear my voice?

            _Do I...do I mean that much to him?_

“Levi, why did you end it?” I heard myself ask.

            “Can you shut up for a few minutes?”

            “Are you gonna hang up?”

            “No. I just need you to be quiet for me. Just for a few minutes.”

            “Okay.”

            I shut my mouth. I knew Mikasa was watching me, leaning against the door, but I couldn’t bring myself to look up at her. I didn’t want to see the expression on her face. Armin rolled over in his sleep and grasped the blanket. I just held the phone and sat and waited for whatever was to come. Then, Levi spoke. But it wasn’t to me.

            “No, I’m not done yet,” he said. He was speaking quickly. Urgently. Then he began to cough again.

            “Eren, I need you to listen to me.” This time he was talking to me.

            “O-of course.”

            “I’m going to tell you about the people that killed your mother.”

            I couldn’t say anything, even though my mouth was open.

            “They’re part of a crime syndicate that has its roots deep in this country, all over it. They’ve been here since god—or whoever the fuck is up there—knows when. Sometimes they kill specific people for specific reasons. And sometimes they kill because they’re bored or somebody paid them. That kind of syndicate.”

            “But...what’s their objective?”

            “Nobody actually knows yet. Even intelligence agencies have no idea. It could be drugs. It could be war with another syndicate. It could be part of an arms race. My guess is just that it began as a group of people who were greedy and wanted money—and now it’s a complicated network of thugs looking to gain power within the underworld. They’re probably the most powerful gang out there right now.”

            I could hardly hold the phone I was shaking so hard. My mind filled with red.

            “I don’t know why they killed your mother. They might’ve done it because they were bored, or they might’ve done it because of people she knows, or they might’ve done it for any stupid fucking reason that crossed their minds.”

            His voice was becoming more and more agitated. I could hear it trembling.

            “Their mark is the skull with roses. You’ve seen it. They leave it wherever they go, as a warning. They’re unpredictable and even when members have been apprehended, they refuse to say a single word. Even tortured to the brink of death. It seems blood runs thicker than water in that place—don’t fucking touch me _I’m talking to him.”_

His outburst surprised me. But I kept my mouth shut and waited for him to continue. Hoping that nobody had forcibly taken the phone from him.

            “Do you know why I’m telling you all of this?”

            “You’re...you’re not drunk, are you?”

            “No. I’m not drunk,” he sighed. “I’m trying to convince you to stay the hell away from them because they will destroy you and everything you love from the inside out. They’ll eat you piece by piece, starting from the bottom so that you can watch yourself die. And when you’re almost dead, when you’re wishing that you had never been born, they’ll bring people you love and they’ll shower you with their blood. And then, only when you’ve regretted every moment that you’ve been breathing since you were born, they’ll kill you and feed you to the dogs.”

            My entire body was scrambled, my blood thinned, everything within me draining.

            I had never been so frightened in my entire life.

            But somehow I found my voice.

            “H...How do you know all this about them...?” I murmured.

            “I know that you have a bad habit of not listening to people, but I need you to listen to me about this,” Levi continued. Ignoring my question. “Even if you find them, you won’t feel satisfaction. You won’t avenge your mother’s death, and you’ll never discover why they killed her. You’ll just die a terrible death and I...”

            His voice caught. My heart was caught with it.

            “Levi...”

            “Take care of yourself, Eren. Please.”

            “N-no, wait! You can’t just do that!” I cried. “You can’t just make me fall in love with you, abandon me, then call out of the blue just to leave again!”

            “I didn’t make you do anything.”

            “That’s not _fair_ , and you know it! You _are_ using me! Why can’t you just admit how you actually feel? Are you afraid? What are you afraid of? I know you’re in love with me, so why are you afraid to say it?”

            “Because I’m in love with someone el—”

            _“Stop lying to me, you fucking asshole!”_ I screamed. It woke Armin up. It probably woke up the entire hall. Mikasa didn’t even flinch. She just closed her eyes and looked at the ground. “ _I know you’re not in love with anybody else!”_

He didn’t respond.

            “Why are you calling me? And what happened to you?”

            “I have to go.”

            “Why...why are you doing this to me?” My screams were trailing off into incoherent sobs and I couldn’t tell what I was saying anymore. “Why? Why? Why did I have to fall in love with you?”

            “Goodbye, Eren.”

            He managed to say it through his coughing.

            Then he hung up.

I lifted my arm to throw the phone across the room, but I stopped when I remembered that it was Mikasa’s phone. So I threw it onto the bed beside me and balled my hands into fists so tight that I could feel my fingernails digging into the flesh of my palms. I was at my wit’s end. Completely lost and confused. Trying so hard to climb out of this hole but just digging myself deeper instead. And Levi had given me the shovel. Armin and Mikasa came and sat on either side of me. They didn’t say anything. I didn’t want them to try to comfort me. I especially didn’t want Mikasa to. Not when she had her own problems—much bigger than mine—to deal with. And they knew that, so they didn’t try. They sat beside me while I swallowed my tears.

            “Mikasa,” I said, breaking the silence after who knows how long. “You know what happened to him, don’t you? And you know where he goes all the time? Where he disappears to?”

            “Yes.”

            “Why won’t you tell me?”

            “Because it’s dangerous and I don’t want you to get involved.”

            “How dangerous? Why would I get involved?”

            “As dangerous as you can imagine. Because I know you and the stupid decisions you’re capable of making.”

            Armin reached over and grabbed my hand and it calmed me down a little bit.

            “Does it have anything to do with the people who killed my mother?”

            She stared straight into my eyes. And she said, “Yes.”

            “I overheard you talking on the phone with Levi a while ago,” I said. The words were coming out naturally so I let them. “You were angry with him.”

            “I remember.”

            “So you knew that I could hear you?”

            “Yes.”

            “Did they kill your mother, too?”

            “I...” She paused. “I don’t know.”

            “But you think so?”

            “Yes.”

            “Is it his fault?”

            “No. No, it’s not his fault,” she said. Her voice breathy and patchy.

            “I want to know what’s going on.”

            “I know.” Mikasa sighed and stood up. I watched her, my lips trembling and my hand shaking in Armin’s, and she brushed my cheek with the back of her hand. “Forget about Levi. Push him out of your life with force if you have to. I’m not going to let him talk to you anymore. I’m not going to give you messages from him, and I’m not going to give him any messages from you. Cry about him if you want—do what you need to do to cope. But move on from him. He’ll move on from you, too. I promise you’ll get better.”

            She put a kiss on my forehead and then left the room. Where to, I had no idea. And I didn’t particularly care. The spot where her lips had met my skin was burning and it hurt. Armin squeezed my hand.

            “Hey, Armin?”

            “Yes, Eren?”

            “H...How do I move on from this?”

            _too deep too deep too deep_

_let me fall_

“I don’t know.”

           

* * *

 

            I knew that I was on my own now if I wanted to figure anything out. Erwin and Mikasa were determined to keep me away from Levi (and it seemed that Levi was determined to keep away from me, but wasn’t very good at it), and they were the two people who knew the most about him. I tried to talk to Hanji about it, but they genuinely didn’t seem to know anything. Petra of course was in the dark. I even contacted Mike, but I think Erwin must have gotten to him—he didn’t say a single word to me about Levi. I still don’t know if this was my sense of rebellion, or my sense of justice, or just some twisted curiosity and masochism, but after my conversation with Levi I became determined to do the exact opposite of what everyone was telling me.

            _“Forget about him, move on, stay away from him...”_

I was going to figure things out and I was going to get him back and I was finally going to put the demons to rest, even if everyone I had ever loved or looked up to was standing in my way. I just accepted that I was stuck in this abyss, in this labyrinth of skeletons in closets and blood on hands and secrets caught in throats, so I might as well try to find peace with being here. Mikasa reached her hand out to help me climb, but I didn’t jump to grab it. Levi took away the shovel that was helping me dig, but I just used my fingers. Erwin tried to instill within me fear of the monsters that were dwelling here, but his words made me braver.

            I went to his apartment a few times to see if I could catch him, but if he was ever there, I didn’t know it. Someone else always answered the door.

            “Is Levi here?”

            “Ah, no...”

            I couldn’t call him because he blocked my number, but I never blocked his because I was convinced that one of these days he would be in one of his phases and feel the need to call me again. He never did, but that didn’t deter me. I fell into a strange state of determination that was more intense than any I had felt before this moment. As the second semester started, I continued studying with Mikasa and even more on my own, and I was getting high grades. I was working out a lot and I could feel myself becoming stronger. I started to work as a server the café where Levi and I had our first date to make extra money—always secretly hoping that Levi would wander in. I grew closer to the friends that I had. I never felt lonely and I never felt anxious.

            But I was determined, nonetheless.

            And beneath it all I was desperately trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together because I knew I would never be able to rest again until I knew the entire story. My nightmares flared up again, and I suffered from them almost every night. It was the same one every time. The one where I walked into the room where I had discovered my mother’s corpse, and Levi was there, and he ripped my heart out with that knife. Every single fucking night. Not even my medications helped. I fell back into my habits of obsessing over research into this crime syndicate. Levi had given me a crumb and now I wanted the cookie—when I wasn’t studying for class or working, I was always trying to find more information. Looking through newspapers and listening to the police radio and watching the news. I didn’t tell Armin because I knew he would be worried, and I definitely didn’t tell Mikasa.

            One day, at the beginning of February, Hanji invited me over to have dinner with them. I knew that Levi wouldn’t be there. So when Hanji went to the bathroom I snuck into his room because I knew that was the one place I could find any clues.

            And I knew exactly what I was looking for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name's Jaeger. 
> 
> Eren Jaeger. 
> 
> *whips off sunglasses*
> 
> *pokes himself in the eye*


	29. I See Some Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the word 'subtlety' is not in my vocab 
> 
> thanks guys so much for all your support, truly, from the bottom of my heart. it means so much to me that you take the time to read my work <3 
> 
> enjoooyyy (^_^)

**28**

**I See Some Light**

 

            I went immediately to his desk. I knew I didn’t have a lot of time—I needed to hurry. But when I opened the door and walked in, I needed to take a second. A single second. Being in there again was refreshing. It smelled familiar, felt familiar. Clean and fresh, the beds perfectly made. I remembered laying in that bed with my arms around him, lips pressed to his neck, eyelashes in his hair. I blinked the memories away and got back to the task at hand. I sat down at his desk and grabbed the old photograph of Levi and his friends. My fingers were trembling, but I managed to open the frame and pull it out. I turned it over to see if I could find anything. All I saw was the date. Five years ago.

            I was looking for a way to contact them. Levi told me that he didn’t keep in touch with them anymore, but I figured that they would know something about him. They were my last hope to uncover the secrets everyone was trying so desperately to hide from me. Farlan and Isabel. I didn’t even know their last names. I had asked Hanji and Petra, but they hadn’t known, either. I put the photograph back into the frame and wished that his laptop were around—I knew the password (assuming he hadn’t changed it) and might have been able to find something there. I glanced through the books on his shelf, and found a little black notebook. Smaller than the one he usually carried around, and it looked much older. I whisked it from its spot and began to flip through it. It was a little diary, with dates scrawled at the tops of the pages. Each entry was only a few sentences long, and hardly sentences at all. They were names of places and things and even people. The oldest date in the notebook was seven years ago; Levi had been fifteen.

            I knew I didn’t have a lot of time left, but I also knew that if I took the notebook Levi would notice. I looked nervously at the door and kept flipping.

            _Farlan...Isabel...Farlan...Isabel..._

“There!”

            It was written right there in his pristine handwriting. I took a quick picture of it with my phone.

            _Isabel Magnolia._

“Fuck, what about Farlan?”

            It was on the last page. Dated four years ago. He had written their names out.

            _Farlan Church._

_Isabel Magnolia._

And across their names he had drawn a giant X in red marker. A chill ran down my spine.

            I had what I needed, so I put the book back, made sure that I left everything the way I’d found it, and ran back to the kitchen before Hanji came out of the bathroom. Not before noticing, a tremor in my heart, that the picture of me and Levi was still on his desk. I was still shaking, from adrenaline and longing, when I sat at the dining table just before Hanji walked back to finish their ravioli. They gave me a crooked smile. I smiled back, realizing that perhaps Hanji had taken longer in the bathroom on purpose.

            That night, I stayed up late again—but it wasn’t because I was searching for information about the crime syndicate. I was searching desperately for information about Farlan Church and Isabel Magnolia.

            “Eren, it’s two o’clock, go the fuck to sleep,” Jean grumbled from his bed.

            “Fuck off, horseface.”

            I put on my headphones and played Arctic Monkeys and kept searching. I started on every social media site that I could think of, knowing what they looked like, but I couldn’t find them at all. Which immediately struck me as odd. It wasn’t very common for someone to not have any social media presence at all. So I decided to go to Levi’s social media pages and see if I could glean any information. But, if he had ever had photos of them or relationships with them online, he had completely gotten rid of them, because I found no trace of Farlan or Isabel on any of his profiles. Growing frustrated, I turned to one of those online phone books. I knew it was a longshot. And, as expected, I found nothing. I couldn’t find anything about the Church family, nothing about the Magnolia family—hell, I couldn’t even find information about Levi’s side of the Ackerman family. When I was angry and irritated and confused, at five o’clock in the morning, I forced myself to get a few hours of sleep.

            I wasn’t going to give up. I decided to take this as far as I could.

            After class the next day I dragged Armin with me to the city and went to the police department. In fact, I had been dragging him through this whole journey with me. I had essentially drafted him into being my partner in crime, had told him everything that I knew in an attempt to figure things out—at this point, Armin knew just as much as I did. I had told him everything, but we had reached a dead end.

            “Eren, are you sure this is really necessary?”

            “Yes.”

            “O-okay.”

            I walked inside and went to the information desk, Armin anxious at my heels.

            “How can I help you?” the officer at the desk asked.

            “Hi. I’m trying to find someone’s contact information, but I can’t seem to—would I be able to here?”

            “Well, I can’t make any promises. Depends on if they’ve chosen to make their contact information public. But I can check for you,” she said with a friendly smile. “Have their names?”

            “Farlan Church and Isabel Magnolia.”

            I wrote their names down on a piece of paper and gave them to her. She disappeared to a computer in the back room, leaving me and Armin alone in the reception area.

            “You don’t think you’re taking this too far?” he asked. He was looking around, eyes flitting from one corner to the next, twisting the edge of his shirt.

            “No. They’re my last chance to find out anything about him,” I sighed, leaning my elbows against the desk.

            “Why don’t you just listen to Mikasa? Forget about him. Move on.”

            “You _honestly_ think I’m capable of doing it?”

            “No? But it’s at least worth a shot, I think...”

            “Nah. And besides, I think it has something to do with Mom.”

            “I still think this is a bit much.”

            “I’m already in too deep, anyway.”

            “You keep saying that.”

            The officer came back out, a confused and solemn look on her face. She looked at me and shook her head.

            “Sorry, kid, but...ah...”

            “What? They’re not in the database?”

            “No, they are,” she sighed. She sat down and shrugged her shoulders heavily. “But they’ve both been dead for four years.”

            “They’re...they’re dead?” I could hardly get the words from my mouth. Armin grabbed my sleeve and tugged on it lightly.

            “I’m sorry. Did you know them?” she asked.

            “N-no, I didn’t, but...I was hoping they could help me find something. Um, okay. Well, thanks anyway.”

            “Sure thing. Hope you find what you’re looking for.”

            Armin and I left, my mind in a haze. When we were outside, in the frosty post-winter air, he let out a sigh of relief and tugged on my sleeve again.

            “Even the universe is trying to tell you something,” he insisted. “See? The only leads you had haven’t been alive in four years. Just let it go.”

            “You still think I’m going to?”

            “No, but it was worth a shot.”

            We went to the park and sat down on a bench. I needed the fresh air and green grass and blue sky to organize my thoughts, to calm myself down and rethink my plan.

            “That’s weird. Levi told me that he didn’t keep in contact with them anymore, but he never told me that they were _dead_.”

            “I don’t think it’s weird. He hides a lot from you,” Armin said. He was swinging his legs and sitting on his hands, staring out at the people walking past.

            “I guess you’re right.” I leaned my head back against my arms and crossed my legs.

            “But you know, this could be as much of a clue as actually talking to them,” he mused. “Actually, it might be the final clue we need.”

            “Huh?”

            “Well, let’s think about what you already know.”

            “All right, Sherlock.”

            “So what do you know about Levi?”

            “That before he came to university, he was a criminal who had been evading the police for a few years. They just couldn’t find him.”

            “Okay. What kind of criminal?”

            “I don’t actually know, but Erwin told me that he’d...you know, actually killed people.”

            “Right. Alone?”

            “No. No, not alone. He told me himself that he wasn’t alone.”

            “But do you know anything about the people he was with?”

            I paused, and glanced over Armin. He was still staring ahead, smiling. A little girl and her mother passed by, and he waved at her.

            “Farlan and Isabel?”

            “Probably,” he nodded. “Do you know anything else about them?”

            I thought about the hill and the gardens.

            “Isabel showed him the gardens and they stole a car together once and drove it out to the middle of nowhere,” I said.

            “It’s likely that Levi didn’t work alone. He worked with Farlan and Isabel—whatever that means. I don’t think it actually means anything, though. I think they just found themselves in an unfortunate situation and were trying to make it on their own.”

            “And it’s likely that he was close with them,” I finished.

            “Yeah, that, too.”

            “Okay, so I guess that’s one mystery figured out. Levi, Farlan, and Isabel were working together on the streets. Does that mean that the two of them were wanted by the police, too?”

            “Most likely.”

            “But when they found Levi, he was alone...”

            “And?”

            “And...?”

            “What did Erwin tell you about that day?”

            “Well, nothing much. He just said that Levi was alone in the cell, that he was bloodied up, like he’d been...in a fight...”

            My voice trailed off. Armin turned to look at me as the possibilities suddenly hit me. His face as cheerful as always.

            “And before that! Levi told me that he was holding a grudge, or something,” I said, jolting up. My skin was crawling with excitement. Armin nodded, urged me to continue. “So you think that on the day they caught Levi, he and Farlan and Isabel had gotten into some kind of skirmish, and the two of them were killed?”

            “Well, there’s obviously the possibility that they had died before that, but...to be honest, I think the former explanation is more likely. Because a dramatic fight in which two of his friends die would provide a probable pretext for him being apprehended by the police.”

            The puzzle was becoming clearer and my ecstasy was unbearable.

            “But we still don’t know everything,” Armin continued. “Like, how would the three of them find themselves in a situation so dire that two of them wound up dead? And how could a situation like that actually lead to Levi being arrested? Not to mention, how did he escape alive?”

            He raised his eyebrows at me, waiting for me to answer his questions.

            “Fuck, Armin, I don’t know.”

            “You can be so dense sometimes, Eren,” he sighed with an exasperated smile. “Think. You said it yourself. It might have something to do with...?”

            “MY MOM!”

            “ _Shh!_ Not so loud!”

            “Holy shit! You think...you think the same crime syndicate that killed my mom killed Farlan and Isabel?”

            “I guess I can’t be sure, but that’s what it looks like to me.”

            “Jesus, Armin. How did you figure all this out?”

            “Elementary, my dear Watson. First of all, if he was involved in some way with a crime syndicate of that caliber—even if it was just a run-in by chance—it would explain why the police were able to finally apprehend him. Sure, a gang like that is expert at weaving its way through the underground networks of the city, but remember what Levi said to you on New Year’s? ‘Even when they’re apprehended, they don’t talk.’ Which implies that the police have enough information about them to be able to track their movements, even slightly. So if Levi, Farlan, and Isabel ended up in a skirmish with them, it would increase the likelihood that they be found by the police.”

            “Fuck...”

            “Second of all, it would explain their actual deaths. Based on what Mikasa told you, Levi—and I would assume Farlan and Isabel—were pretty much experts at survival by that point. I mean, they had been living on the streets long enough. That would make sense. But a crime syndicate like that could easily take out three loners. Unless, of course, we’ve made a mistake in assuming that it’s just the three of them. But I don’t think we have.”

            “Okay, but if that’s true, then how the hell did Levi survive if Farlan and Isabel both died?”

            “That’s where my reasoning gets messy,” Armin sighed.

            “How long have you been working this out?”

            “Since you told me everything,” he smiled. “Anyway, you bring up a good point. So far the story goes that Levi, Farlan, and Isabel were living together and making their way through life on the streets. For who knows how long, making enough trouble that they had the police on their tail. And then one day they have a run in with the skull-and-roses crime syndicate. Or, maybe, they’ve been having little squabbles with them for a while and things have come to a head.”

            “You make it sound like Levi was some mob boss...”

            “He could’ve been, for all we know. So, anyway, they have this showdown with the crime syndicate. It can’t have been very big, otherwise Levi wouldn’t have gotten out alive. Maybe a group of four or five grunts? And we can assume that Levi et. al were skilled enough to take on at least a few people. So they fight. Isabel and Farlan are killed—Levi is roughed up pretty badly, based on what Erwin told you. But he managed to survive. How? A few possibilities...”

            “Hit me.”

            “First (and least likely), Levi was just an overall more skilled fighter and was able to take everybody out, even after Farlan and Isabel died. Second, after their death (or during, though I doubt he was that much of an asshole), he managed to escape with his life. But I doubt that one, too, because Levi doesn’t seem the type to run. Third, and what is probably most likely, Levi was pretty much cornered, now having to fight alone. And at this point the police show up and apprehend him, in a way also sparing his life.”

            “And then they took him to the station, where he met Erwin.”

            “Exactly. I think it would be helpful to know dates, though. If the date of Farlan and Isabel’s death is the same as the date Levi was brought into custody, that would confirm a lot of things.”

            “Shit.”

            “Of course, this would also explain how he knows so much about the crime syndicate. It would also explain what Erwin and Levi told you about...you know...how he’d killed people. What was it he said to you?”

            “He did it to protect something important,” I said, though the drunkenness of that night made things a little bit hazy.

            “So we can assume that he killed members of the syndicate to protect Farlan and Isabel...”

            “But they died anyway. He said it himself. He lost everything.”

            “Right. And, finally, his involvement with them would explain why the police let him go.”

            I had been generally following up until that point.

            “Huh? How? You’ve completely lost me, Armin.”

            “Think back. What was the reason Erwin gave you? For wanting to get Levi out?”

            “He said that he didn’t think he was a bad person, and that he could be useful.”

            “There it is. The only clue we need,” Armin smiled. “Useful. The only reason the police would let a criminal of that level go would be if they could use him. Now you tell me: how would they be able to use someone like Levi? Someone who knows the underground world—and specifically about this very evasive and powerful crime syndicate?”

            “Oh, fuck. They could use him to track them down.”

            “Bingo.”

            “You think that Levi bargained with the police to get out.”

            “I’m almost one hundred percent certain that he did. Encouraged by Erwin, of course.”

            “If he agreed to help them, they would let him out.”            

            “And if he held a grudge against them for killing his friends, there would be no reason for him to refuse.”

            “Armin.”

            “Yeah?”

            “You’re a fucking genius.”

            I threw my arms around him and squeezed him as tightly as I could.

            “Ow, Eren!” he laughed, hugging me back. The world seemed clearer. The burden on my shoulders lighter. Things that I hadn’t understood were suddenly making sense.

            “Hey, do you think we’d be able to go back to the police department and get the dates?”

            “For Farlan and Isabel, yes. Probably not for Levi, though. It’s likely that his arrest was completely taken off the records.”

            “Shit.”

            “There’s really no way to confirm my suspicions without getting it from Levi or Erwin...or even the police,” Armin said with a helpless shrug.

            “Wait, I’m still confused,” I blurted. “What does any of this have to do with me?”

            “I don’t think you’re actively involved like you’ve been made to believe,” he replied. “I just think it’s because your mother was killed by the same people, and—”

            “Wait, if he bargained to get out by helping them, then that means...oh my God.”

            “Yeah.”

            “That’s what he and Erwin are doing.” I leaned back against the bench, eyes wide, mind boggled and skin cold. “It’s not that he _was_ involved with the crime syndicate. He still is.”

            “Which is why he doesn’t want you close to him. You have a grudge, too.”

            _holy shit_

_even deeper than i thought_

“So you think that when he and Erwin disappear, it’s for that?” I murmured. With the last bit of breath in my shriveled lungs.

            “It would explain a lot. Like his injuries, and the fact that nobody knows where he goes. And, of course, the fact that he’s with Erwin.”

            “This can’t be real.”

            “I might be completely off the mark, you know. The explanation could be completely different. Especially if Erwin or Levi have given you false information.”

            “What about Mikasa?”

            “What about her?”

            “How does she know everything? Is she involved, too?”

            “I don’t think she’s involved. But I think her being close to Levi has something to do with it. He trusts her, I think. Actually, it probably goes even further than that.”

            “How...?”

            “I mean, it might have to do with the fact that they’re related. She might need to know for her own protection. Because if he’s involved in some battle against this crime syndicate, it’s possible that they would try to use her as leverage. Not that they could—not with the way Mikasa is. You know.”

            “Maybe that’s why her mom died. And why she was so angry with Levi.”

            “Maybe.”

            “Armin...what the fuck did I get myself into?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Armin is such an underrated little princess please love him


	30. I Love You, Rebellious Nobody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (/;◇;)/

**29**

**I Love You, Rebellious Nobody**

 

            I considered straight up barging into Levi’s apartment and confronting him with the epiphanies that Armin had provided me with, but I figured that would be counterproductive, so I restrained myself. I knew I needed to do something, but I wasn’t entirely sure what. I think that after our conversation, and the many that followed, Armin regretted ever telling me about his discoveries. He knew that it just fanned the flames. I was initially worried that he would back away, leaving me to fend for myself for the rest of this journey (wherever it took me), but in the end his conscience wouldn’t allow it and he stuck by my side. Although there wasn’t much to stick by—at this point I was just wracking my brain to figure out a way to move forward. To win Levi back. The pain of his absence hadn’t waned even a little bit. I was still aching with longing for him every second, still missing him with every breath.

            Not to mention the fact that he and Erwin could be the way to my mother’s killers. But I sure as hell didn’t tell Armin that that’s what I was thinking. And we were very careful about letting Mikasa know what we were up to.

            (To be honest, I had a feeling that she knew the entire time anyway. Mikasa was not one to be deceived.)

            I wasn’t sure where I was going or what I was doing. All I knew was that I missed Levi, that I loved him even if the stories we had concocted for him were true. I wanted to be the shoulder that he leaned on, I wanted to provide the ear for his secrets and the heart for him to squeeze. I wanted to roll around in the sheets until the middle of the night like we used to, drive out to a motel and get drunk again, go to the top of the mountain and look out, pretending that if we jumped maybe—just maybe—we could fly. I wanted him to tell me the truth of it all himself, wanted for him to finally stop hiding everything from me. I wanted him to look me in the eyes and say, I love you, Eren Jaeger, you dumb piece of shit, I love you and I’m not going to leave you again. It made me toss at night, even as I dreamt of him shredding me open with his knife. Even as his physical presence grew further and further with each second that we were apart. The photo we had taken was still on his desk. I knew that I meant something to him. But he wouldn’t admit it, maybe not even to himself. He didn’t call me again. I had no idea what he was doing.

            But I was going to find out.

            A week after Armin and I visited the police department, I decided that my patience was worn thin. I told Armin that I was going to the frat house. If Erwin wasn’t there, or refused to talk to me, I would get one of the other members to talk. Surely they would be able to help, even a little bit. I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for—confirmation, I guess?—but I knew that I wanted to go there. Armin didn’t bother trying to stop me. In fact, he willingly joined me. I think at that point he felt an obligation to keep me out of trouble, if only out of fear of what Mikasa might do to him otherwise. It was a little before dinner time, so we figured it was the best time to go. We walked side by side to the front door of the fraternity house and I, with a newfound strength fueled by my determination to settle this, whatever ‘this’ was, this crawling feeling under my skin or this bug creeping around my brain, knocked on the door.

            It wasn’t Erwin who answered. To our profound surprise, it was Mike.

            “Oh, Mike,” I blurted. He looked down at me from his towering state without a word. I tried to smile but it didn’t really work. “Ah, what’s up?”

            “You looking for Erwin?”

            “Well, yeah, actually...”

            “He’s not here.”

            “Right. I figured.” I chuckled nervously and looked at Armin, who was staring up at Mike in astonishment. “Um, do you know when he’ll be back?”

            “He won’t.”

            “Wha—?”

            “He’s going away for a few weeks. Don’t know how long,” Mike said. He had a deep and rumbling voice, but it didn’t make me uncomfortable. Of Levi’s friends, I knew him the least. But I had enjoyed the few interactions we’d had. And I realized that all the times I had spent at Levi’s apartment, when Mike wasn’t there, he had probably been here.

            “Oh.” I glanced at Armin, and he shrugged wordlessly. “When did he leave?”

            “About an hour ago,” Mike said. I clenched my fists and stared at the ground. Why did it seem like when I was so close, answers just slipped through my fingers? They were really good at avoiding me, I had to give them that. Sulking and pouty, I thanked Mike and turned to leave. As we were walking down the road, he called out to us.

            “Hey, kid.”

            We froze and turned over our shoulders.

            “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

            “Wouldn’t what?”

            But he had already closed the door and gone back inside. Now confused as well as frustrated, Armin and I went back to the dorms for dinner, deciding not to say anything about the strange and, frankly, useless encounter.

 

* * *

 

            God, or whoever’s in control of all the little things that happen down here, must have felt bad for me. Either that, or he was sick of my shit and just wanted to get rid of me. Now that I’m thinking about it, it could have been either.

            The point is, he threw me a bone.

            Armin, Mikasa, and I were in my room that Friday night. We were playing poker (which Levi taught me how to play in the first place) using whatever we had lying around as the chips. Mikasa was beating both of us to a pulp, of course, but we played anyway. I was forcing myself to be patient with the situation with Levi because, as much as my heart felt suffocated and my mind frustrated, there wasn’t much I could do at that point. I needed to wait until I could properly corner him and confront him—not that that would be easy, but it was the only thing I could think to do. So I resigned myself to wait for his and Erwin’s return.

            “I have to go to the bathroom,” Mikasa announced.

            “Please, give me every detail when you get back,” I said.

            “Maybe I’ll bring you a sample.” She pinched my ear as she stood up and left the room. I stuck my tongue out behind her.             

            “You guys are gross,” Armin sighed.

            “Whatever.”

            I stretched out onto my back and stared at the ceiling. In the silence, my mind began wandering again to Levi. Again to my mother. Again to all the things I knew and all the things I didn’t know and this constricting affection that was dragging me down into its depths. My morose and somber thoughts were interrupted by a jarring vibration. It was Mikasa’s phone. She was of the rare breed that didn’t take her phone with her to the bathroom to distract her while she shat. Which was definitely a mistake on her part. I sat up and reached for it.

            “Eren, what are you doing?”

            “Checking her phone for her.”

            It was a text message from Levi. I caught my breath, feeling as if I had been punched in the stomach. Armin watched me with a furrowed brow and his pouty little lips, but I ignored him. I unlocked the phone to read the message, but there was a password. One that it had never crossed my mind would be there.

            “Fuck.”

            “Don’t break into her phone!” he cried as I began to type in a code. I tried the first four letters of her mother’s name (which I used for my own phone), but it didn’t work. My next go-to was Levi’s name, but that didn’t work, either, which I wasn’t too surprised about. I was hit with the possibility that she had just decided on four random numbers that I was never going to figure out. But I decided to try one more thing. 3-7-3-6. E-R-E-N.

            I typed in the password and unlocked her phone and opened Levi’s message. There were two. The first was an address.

            The second was a message that read, “Tomorrow at midnight. I’ll call you when I get out.”

            I grabbed a pen from my desk and wrote the address on the inside of my hand.

            “What are you doing...?” Armin asked. I ignored his question. When I was finished writing the address, I deleted the messages from Mikasa’s phone. I put it just as I had found it and stretched onto my back again.

            “Eren!”

            “What?” I said, reading the address on my hand again.

            “What did you just do?”

            “I hacked into Mikasa’s phone.”

            “Why? And what did you write on your hand?”

            “Don’t worry about it.”

            “ _Eren!”_

“If you mention this to her, Armin, I swear I—”

            Mikasa walked back into the room and we both shut our mouths.

            “Took you long enough,” I greeted.

            “Blame the dining halls,” she shrugged, plopping back down beside me. I stared at her nervously, watching her eyes. They moved to her phone and I held my breath. But then they moved back to her hand of cards and we continued playing and I could tell, for the rest of the night, that Armin was ready to explode. I was being a terrible friend and had put him in a shitty position, but that message was exactly what I needed. I wasn’t entirely sure what it meant; all I knew was that it gave a time and a place and I was going to be there.

           

* * *

 

            As you sit and read this, call me stupid.

            Call me an idiot.

            Call me fucking insane for going to such lengths when I knew how high the stakes were.

            You’re not wrong.

            Just irrelevant.

 

* * *

 

            I declined invitations to go out the next day. I sat in my room and tried to do homework all day, but I couldn’t concentrate. My plan was to take the ten o’clock bus out to the city; the address Levi had given Mikasa (or tried to give her) was about a forty-five minute drive outside the city, in a suburb that I had never heard of. I figured that I could take a taxi once I was in the city and, at midnight, find Levi where he said he was going to be. Now, as stupid as I may be, I’m not totally blind. I had an idea of what was happening. I knew what I was getting myself into. I just don’t think the gravity of it truly hit me. The fact that I was putting my life in danger hardly crossed my mind, though I was aware of it the entire time.

            I put on my green jacket, grabbed my phone and my wallet and the little piece of paper I had written the address on, and stepped into my boots. I also grabbed a knife. It was Jean’s. He liked to cook and had a bunch of utensils lying around, and I figured he wouldn’t miss it if I borrowed it. Then at 9:55pm I was at the bus stop. I got onto the bus at 10:03pm and put on my headphones and felt the knot in my stomach grow tighter. I got off the bus downtown at 11:11pm. A lucky number, supposedly—a made a wish for the hell of it, though I didn’t think it would come true. I walked down the street for a few blocks. I remembered how many times I had taken this same walk with my arm intertwined with his. I could almost feel him there next to me, complaining about the cold and clicking his tongue as he watched the darkness of the sky light up with the stars.

            I hailed a taxi. The driver was a middle-aged man with a toothpick between his teeth and a scraggly beard and warm, kind eyes. I sat down in the back and said hello.

            “Where to, kid?”

            I gave him the name of the suburb. I didn’t want him to take me to the exact address, so I gave him a location that was a ten minutes’ walk away. When I told him, he furrowed his thick eyebrows and stared at me.

            “Are ya sure?” he asked. “That’s not a place a kid like you should be goin’ to, ‘specially this late.”

            “Thanks, but I’m sure.” I smiled and blinked at him. He stared at me for a few moments, and then started to drive.

            “What’re ya doin’ out there, anyway?”

            “Meeting a friend.”

            I realized how shady that sounded, and he did, too.

            “A friend...okay,” he said. I caught his eye in the rearview mirror. “Ya don’t look like you could have many friends out there.”

            “Why’s that?”

            “Well, it’s just...it’s a nasty area, know what I mean?”

            “Not really.”

            “Full o’nasty people doin’ nasty things. Ya don’t fit in.”

            “Oh.”

            “How old are ya?”

            “I’ll be nineteen in about a month.”

            He shook his head with a click of his tongue. Then he fell silent and I fell silent and I put my headphones in until we arrived. Ignoring the twists and turns and jolts of my intestines. I stared out the window with my cheek against my palm. It had started to rain. We drove through the streets of the city, but the buildings began thinning out. Soon we left the city proper and found ourselves on the outskirts. We drove through what looked like the countryside, until buildings started cropping up again. But these buildings were different. They were run-down, many of them in shambles. Broken bottles and cigarette butts lined the streets. They were completely empty except for us. After a few minutes, the driver stopped.

            “This is as far as I go, kid.”

            “All right. Thanks for the ride.” I reached into my wallet and handed him a wad of cash. “See you later.”

            “Be careful, kid,” he said as I got out of the car. “Watch your back.”

            I nodded curtly. Then I closed the door and he made a u-turn and I watched the tiny car disappearing, on its way back into the relative safety of the city.

            The first thing I noticed was the silence. It was chilling, to my very bones. I couldn’t even hear sounds coming from within the houses, which I had originally assumed were inhabited. The second thing that hit me was the darkness. The lamp-posts were outdated and gave off a stale yellow light that made it even more eerie. I felt totally and completely alone in this place—and yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. I didn’t realize how frightened I was until I tried to pull out the piece of paper with the address and found myself shaking. I had written directions on the paper. I checked my watch. It was 11:55. I put my hood up and I began to walk deeper into the neighborhood, following the directions I had given myself. Putting my hands in my pockets and tightening my grip around the handle of the knife. I tried to think of things to calm myself down. My mother. Her voice telling me stories, her fingers pinching my cheeks, the way she used to say, “I can’t give you a brother, Eren! I need to save all my love for you.” Then I thought about getting a tattoo and I wondered what it would be.

            Whenever I heard the slightest sound, I jumped and got ready to whip out the knife. But it was just a stray cat, or a bird, or myself stepping on a piece of broken glass. I had never felt so on edge in my entire life. It was as if this place was abandoned, although I saw functioning cars and some lights through the windows. A few times I passed groups of people—also with their hoods up, hands in their pockets—walking in the opposite direction. I averted my gaze and sped up a little every time. I avoided trouble. I just needed to get to this spot. When I was about five minutes away I spotted Levi’s car parked in an alleyway.

            _fuck_

I kept walking. I tried to imagine what he would say when he saw me. It wouldn’t be kind, of that I was certain.

            Two minutes away. I heard voices. I stopped in my tracks. There was a house to my left, and on its mailbox was the address that Levi had messaged. I stared at it in silence for a few moments, and strained to hear what the voices were saying. They were around the corner, in another alleyway that I probably wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been paying attention. That’s why places like this were so dangerous. I checked my watch. It was 12:04. I was shaking like a baby bird. I moved slowly, quietly, focusing on every step, toward the alley. The voices were growing clearer. One voice I immediately recognized as Erwin’s—commanding and brave and smooth. Another voice I didn’t recognize. Scratchy and hoarse and confident. I moved to the very corner of the alley and peered around it, until I could just barely catch a glimpse.

            The first thing I saw were the backs of three men. One tall and lanky, one burly and muscular, one with a build similar to my own. And standing across from them, at the other end of the alley, were Erwin and Levi. Well, Erwin was standing. Levi was sitting down on a box, legs crossed, smoking a cigarette and twirling a gun around his finger. He looked terribly unamused, silent and jeering as Erwin spoke. The only reason I was able to see was because one of the men, the tall lanky one, had a flashlight with him.

            And then I noticed the tattoos on the backs of their necks.

            A skull and roses.

            I felt like throwing up. Those could be the men who murdered my mother.

            “We’re not here to fight,” Erwin was saying. “We’re here to negotiate.”

            “Negotiate what? You people never negotiate,” one of the men scoffed, leaning against the wall of the alley.

            “You’re right, we’re _not_ here to negotiate,” Levi spat. “We’re here to tell you to back the fuck off.”

            “Afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man responded.

            “Gang wars are one thing, a thing that is very difficult and nearly impossible for the police to control. But involving innocent people is another thing. Something else entirely,” Erwin said.

            “Come on, Erwin. It’s not like they’ve just started dragging innocent people into their little games,” Levi interrupted. “They’ve been doing that from the beginning.”

            I was confused. I couldn’t wrap my head around any of this. Why on earth would these people agree to meet Levi and Erwin here, knowing that they were with the police? Did they have some kind of leverage?

            “It’s getting out of hand. We’re here to make a deal,” Erwin said. “We’ve been able to track your movements and know that you’re starting to spill from the underground and into the public terrain. We don’t know why. But if you reign in your territories and your people back down, we’ll promise a lighter sentence to the members that we have in custody.”

            _Blood runs thicker than water with them. That’s what Levi said._

_But why are they making deals with thugs?_

_There’s no way this is legal._

“And if we refuse?” the lanky man asked. At that, Levi tossed his gun into the air, caught it, and stood up. He spit his cigarette to the ground and crushed it.

            “You misunderstand. We’re not asking you,” he said. “We’re _telling_ you. Give the boss our terms and when we see you shitheads pulling back we’ll tell the prosecutors to let your boys live.”

            The three men laughed among themselves.

I didn’t hear what happened next. Two pairs of hands grabbed me from behind and, before I could scream out, shoved something in my mouth—a bundle of cloth or something. I felt as if I were about to choke. But I didn’t have time to feel uncomfortable. In the next moment, I only felt pain. Someone punched me in the stomach so hard that I thought I was going to pass out from not being able to breathe. My arms were twisted back behind me and the pain exploded again against my chin—then against my nose—then my eye. I tried to scream, or cough, or do anything, but I couldn’t. My eyesight was so blurry that I couldn’t even see my attackers. They ripped the knife from my pocket and my mind became scrambled with fear.

            They stabbed me in the side, and then they stabbed me in the leg. Lightheaded and dizzy and just on the brink of consciousness, I felt them dragging me.

            “Eren!”

            They stopped and forced me to my knees, lifted my head by my hair, and ripped the cloth from my bleeding mouth. In my haze, my haven of pain and metal and red, I managed to open my eyes.

            “All right. You wanna negotiate? Let’s negotiate, then.”

            Through it all, I saw Levi. I saw his teeth clench. I saw the color draining from his face. I saw him staring at me, saw his grip on the gun tighten. Saw him take a step forward, only to be stopped by Erwin’s arm across his chest. Erwin was staring not at me, but at the man behind me. Holding me. And I felt so happy. I hadn’t seen Levi in so long. He looked so beautiful.

            “You let our boys out, unharmed, and we won’t kill the kid.”

            “If you fucking touch him I’ll—”

            “Levi,” Erwin interrupted. And with that Levi fell silent with an angry click of his tongue. Then Erwin turned back to the men—I don’t know how many there were—behind me. I could see my own blood spilling in front of me. “We refuse.”

            Levi clenched his fist. He was losing his composure. While Erwin stood as stoic as he always had.

            “Oh? You don’t care if we kill him, then?”

            “We won’t give up important leads for his sake,” Erwin replied.

            “All right.”

            They had a gun to my head now, but I could hardly feel it. Could hardly feel anything. I was watching his face, watching the tears as they flowed, and all I could feel was bliss because I knew that this was what love was.

 

* * *

 

            What are we, I wonder?

            Nobodies, I think. Everybody is a nobody.

            Rebellious nobodies. Who have no direction in life except to do that which we are told not to do. Maybe that’s all it means to love somebody. To be rebellious with someone else who wants to be rebellious, too, and then you can be rebellious and you can be nobodies together.

           

* * *

 

            As they prepared to pull the trigger, and his dark eyes widened, I smiled and mouthed the words to him as clear as day: “I love you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah boi title drop *throws confetti*
> 
> gangster fic anyone?


	31. I'm Really Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eeeeeeeep 
> 
> ヽ(ﾟДﾟ)ﾉ

**30**

**I’m Really Sorry**

 

            I thought I was going to die, and I felt so much regret. Not regret for loving Levi, not regret for letting myself follow him. It wasn’t that kind of regret. I didn’t regret the choices that I’d made getting me to that point. What I regretted was that I couldn’t move forward. I’d never hold him again. I’d never hear him say my name. I’d never be able to watch another movie or eat another pizza with Armin. I’d never be able to stay up until three o’clock in the morning talking with Mikasa. I’d never be able to get into another fight with Jean, would never be able to eat Hanji’s ravioli, would never work out with Reiner, would never be able to study my ass off for another test. I was never going to be able to rid myself of the burden of avenging my mother. I saw her face in front of me when I heard them getting ready to pull the trigger and felt the cold barrel against my temple. She was crying, but she was smiling. I regretted so much that I was never going to properly put her to rest. I was just going to be taken in the same way she was.

            I was starting to black out and couldn’t separate my senses from each other. My vision was waning in and out of blackness. I heard someone scream—my name?—and I tried to prepare myself. For the moment that I would fall into complete darkness.

            It never came.

            I heard another scream. I felt the pressure on my head release and I fell forward, without the strength to brace myself. My face smashed against the pavement and, blood soaking against my body, I tried to make sense of the fact that I was still alive. I used what little energy I had left to turn my head. One of the men was on the ground, knocked out. A gunshot sounded that erupted like an explosion, rattling my mind. And then I saw a familiar silhouette, kicking the gun out of one of the men’s hands and, wielding a knife, sinking it into his neck. I thought for a moment that I really had died and was just dreaming.

            It was Mikasa.

            I tried to call out to her, but my voice wasn’t working. There were two other men approaching her from behind. She wouldn’t be able to take all of them.

            Another gunshot, and one of the men collapsed. I turned to see Levi, smoking gun pointed, another man at his feet and blood soaking his shirt. Mikasa turned to face the last man—had there been that many to start with? How many had she taken out?—and sliced the knife across his chest and into his stomach. As if my mind accepted that the storm had passed, I closed my eyes and sank into the ground. I couldn’t bear to keep them open anymore. I heard Levi, Mikasa, and Erwin. Their voices mixing. I couldn’t differentiate them.

            “Eren!”

            “He’s bleeding like hell, we need to get him to a hospital.”

            “Oh yeah? And tell them what?”

            “ _It doesn’t matter.”_

“We’re not taking him to a hospital.”

            “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

            “Give me your shirt.”            

            I felt arms wrapping around me and pulling me up, and I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t, so I tried to reach my arm up. But before I could, someone grabbed my hand.

            “We’re gonna get you fixed up, you hear me? You stupid piece of shit...”

            Those fingers squeezed mine, and I smiled.

            And then everything was black.

 

* * *

 

            I was fading in and out. One moment conscious, the next blanketed in darkness. I wasn’t aware of much. I felt myself rock as I was carried—by whom I don’t know. Felt the familiar movement of being in a car. Backs of hands on my forehead, whispers in my ear, words I couldn’t understand.

            A bed. Chaos. I tried to talk but I couldn’t even see and my entire body hurt. It was burning. I might have screamed. I was seeing colors and having hot flashes and I couldn’t keep myself focused long enough to stay conscious. I couldn’t tell if I was unconscious because I was tired or because I was in such excruciating pain.

            “Stay still.”

            More pain than I had ever felt. Hands holding me down as I writhed, not of my own will but of my body’s. I finally screamed, and someone put a towel in mouth and told me to bite, so I bit down as hard as I possibly could. The wave of agony passed and I blacked out again. It happened again who knows how long later.

            _for the love of god stop_

Darkness, and the image of my mother behind my eyelids.            

 

* * *

 

            “You’re all right. We’re here. Just sleep.”

            I slept. I didn’t dream. I just slept in total and complete darkness.

 

* * *

 

            When my eyes opened, showered with sunlight and fresh air flowing in from the open window, I was in Levi’s bed. I didn’t move. I just stared up at the ceiling for a few moments and tried to remember how I had found myself in this situation. Was I dreaming? What other explanation was there for me being in Levi’s bed? I swallowed and my throat burned. It took me a few minutes to adjust the brightness. I turned my head and a burst of pain ran through my neck, all the way down my spine. I cringed and tried to clench my fingers, but I didn’t have the strength. Then, as if my senses were just now becoming aware that I was awake, every single inch of my body began to ache terribly. I let out a groan and sank deeper into the bed.

            “Eren...?”

            I only then realized that Mikasa was kneeling by the bed, her head leaning against her arms and buried in the red scarf. She had been sleeping like that. When she lifted her head and saw my face, met my eyes, her lips began to tremble and tears ran down her cheeks.

            “Mikasa,” I managed. My voice hoarse. With the strength I had, I tried to lift my hand. A sob on her lips, she reached forward and grabbed it with both hands. She didn’t say anything. Not a single word after that. She just held my hand and leaned her forehead against the bed and cried. So I didn’t say anything, either. It was just the two of us in the room. It must have been the middle of day, meaning that Mikasa was skipping class. It didn’t smell fresh and clean as it usually did. It just smelled like the air coming in from the window. I looked at the corner and there was a pile of sheets stained red. Other than that everything was the same. It took me a second, but I realized that I was naked except for my boxers, wrapped in gauze on different parts of my body. When I tried to sit up it hurt like hell.

            They must have heard her crying. The door creaked open and Erwin and Levi walked in. She turned over her shoulder as I smiled weakly at them. Erwin gave me a gentle smile.

            “Good to see you’re awake, Eren. You scared us there.”

            “Thanks,” I said. Mikasa gripped my hand harder and said nothing to them. Levi had his arms crossed, standing beside Erwin, avoiding my eyes. I didn’t remember him ever doing that. Not looking me in the eyes. Erwin closed the door gently and dragged a chair from Mike’s desk and sat down next to me. Levi stayed standing.

            It was horribly awkward.

            “Um...sorry, I don’t really remember what happened,” I finally stuttered. At that, Mikasa sat up straighter and wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

            “It’s all my fault. It’s my fault,” she said. I blinked at her, silent, as she kissed my knuckles. “I’m so sorry.”

            “Would you get over yourself,” Levi hissed. We all looked at him. I saw a feverish anger flash in Mikasa’s eyes. “It’s not your fault. It’s not his fault. It’s not anybody’s fucking fault.”

            “Maybe it’s _your_ fault. Ever thought of that, you self-righteous son of a bitch?” she spat back. He looked over at her, narrowed his eyes slightly. Seeing them again after so long made it hard to breathe.

            “Just how is it my fault?”

            “If you had just listened to us in the first place and left him out of it, he wouldn’t have...” Her voice trailed off, and she sank back down to the ground. Her grip on my hand loosened.

            “Levi’s right. It’s nobody’s fault,” Erwin interjected.

            “It’s mine,” I suddenly said. Levi stared down at his shoes, and Erwin and Mikasa looked at me. “We don’t have to avoid saying it. It’s my fault.”

            “No, it’s not,” Levi said. His voice firm. He finally looked up into my eyes. I knew then that I blamed myself, Levi blamed himself, and Mikasa blamed herself, and we were trying to convince ourselves that we didn’t.

            “Well, rather than discuss pointless matters like whose fault it is, we should talk about what actually happened,” Erwin said. “Eren deserves to know.”

            He smiled at me and it took me by surprise. The last time I’d interacted with Erwin, he had made threats to me and told me that Levi didn’t care about me. And suddenly he was giving me comforting smiles and being the mediator.

            “What you saw was a covert interaction with the most powerful crime syndicate in the area. But I assume you know that much.”

            I nodded, so he continued.

            “They’re gaining territory and spilling out of the areas where we’ve been able to track their movement for the past few years, into surrounding towns. So we’ve been trying to hold it back.”

            “Wait, wait, stop,” I said. I tried to sit up again, and when Mikasa noticed, she helped me up and put the pillow behind me. It wasn’t comfortable or painless, but it worked out fine. “Before you even say anything else...I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

            Erwin and Levi exchanged glances.

            “First of all, if you really know as little about these people as you claim, how have you been able to map out where they act?”

            “Decades of work,” Erwin replied. “You link incidents together, match faces to names, and you can learn a lot.”

            “If you know where they are, why haven’t you been able to get rid of them?”

            “They’re too powerful. They’ve spent years laying the groundwork and their roots are too deep now. It would be too dangerous.”

            I was in too much discomfort, too much shock, to be really satisfied with the fact that I was finally getting answers to every question that I was asking.

            “Okay, then what do you and Levi do, exactly?”

            “Our job is to do the work that the police can’t.”

            “The dirty work?”

            “In a sense.”

            “And the illegal work.”

            “Yes,” Erwin nodded. He smiled again and it sent shivers down my spine. “The illegal work. The operations that take us directly underground and into the depths of their territories, to make deals and negotiate and—if we need to—take people out that the police force can’t.”

            “Because that’s the only way they would agree to let Levi out of jail,” I said, trying out one of Armin’s predictions. Erwin raised his eyebrows.

            “Yes. Exactly. Maybe you’re smarter than we gave you credit for.”

            “No, I’m really not.” I tried to smile back, but the pain made it into an uncomfortable scowl. “So, what kinds of things do you do?”

            “Our primary goal is to gain information. Our secondary goal is to use whatever means necessary to lessen the impacts of the organization. Sometimes it’s via under-the-table negotiations, which are, in a sense, peaceful. Other times, when we know certain people getting into certain situations in certain areas, it’s via force.”

            “Violence.”

            “That’s right.”

            “So you make illegal deals with thugs and kill people.”

            “That’s a pretty good summary, actually,” Erwin laughed.

            “And what I saw was one of those deals in progress.”

            “Yes.”

            “Okay, but...why would they agree?” I asked. “If they’re that powerful, and surely know who you are, why would they agree to meet with you?”

            “It’s a bit complicated,” he began. When I didn’t say anything, maintaining his gaze, he continued with a soft sigh. “We’ve realized that we can use their members that we’ve apprehended as leverage. We can also blackmail them with information.”

            “How would blackmail make any difference? Isn’t it your legal obligation to give information about them to the police anyway?”

            “Yes, but with a group this complex and widespread, it’s not wise to give it all you have. Especially when you know that you stand to lose,” he explained. “We have to choose our battles to win the war, and they know that.”

            “War.”

            “Yes. War.”

            My head was spinning. I felt like I was about to pass out. Mikasa stood up and touched my forehead.

            “Your fever’s going up. Take it easy,” she murmured. “Levi, hand me that orange vial over there.”

            He handed her the orange vial, filled with white tablets. Then she grabbed a cup of water sitting on the desk. She helped me swallow the pills and the water. I caught his eye fleetingly, but then it was gone again. He reached into his pocket and lit up. The smell of his cigarette smoke made me feel like I was home. He was so far away from me. I forced myself to look away, into Mikasa’s eager eyes as she brushed the matted hair from my sweating forehead. A few minutes later I asked them if I could go back to sleep. Mikasa helped me lie back down and asked me if I wanted her to stay by my bed. I told her that I wanted to be alone.

            I fell asleep, still no dreams. When I woke up again, in a sweat, my breath uneven and my fever swelling up again, the sun had set and the room was dark. There was a cold breeze. I glanced over at the window and I don’t know why, but I wasn’t surprised to see Levi there. Leaning against the open window, smoking his cigarette. How many times had I seen him like that? In the middle of the night when he thought I was sleeping. But how could I sleep when something so marvelous, so truly amazing, was right there in front of me? I felt the tears on my cheeks but I couldn’t wipe them away. His frame was delicate but clear, his movements graceful and natural. The smoke left his open lips in clouds and swirls disappearing into the sky. His eyes staring out at that distant thing.

            After he finished his cigarette, he just leaned his arms against the windowsill and continued staring. His profile illuminated by the moonlight. Maybe he felt me looking at him. He turned and met my eyes. I must have looked terrible, because without a word, he moved to the desk and helped me take my medicine just as Mikasa had. When he put his hand on my back to help me sit up, I felt electricity. It had been so long since he’d touched me. When his fingers brushed against my lips, placed the pills in my open mouth, brought the cup of water to follow, I became lightheaded. When he sat down on the bed and it rocked from his weight, the affection within me spilled forth in my patchy breaths and wet eyes. He didn’t move, even after I swallowed.

            “...Levi...”

            He looked into my face for a few moments. Silent in this darkness. He was covered in the blue of the night. Then he wrapped his arms around me, buried his face against my neck, and he held me. His breath and his hair and the tip of his nose collided with my skin. It was painful, feeling him squeeze me like that, but I ignored the pain. There was nothing else for me to do. I reached up and grasped at the cloth of his shirt as I held him. And he held me. And we were together. And he smelled exactly same as I remembered, and he felt the same, too.

            “Why do you have to be so stupid,” he murmured. His voice trembling.

            “I’m sorry,” I said, even though I knew he didn’t like me apologizing. “I know it was stupid. But I...”

            He began to shake his head so I stopped talking. He moved his hand to the back of my head and grasped my hair. The fingers of his other hand dug into the back of my shoulder.

            “I thought you were gonna die,” he said.

            “Me, too.”

            “And just what would I have done then, brat?”

            “Moved forward. Kept going.”

            “God, I hate you, sometimes.”

            I smiled. I couldn’t help it.

            “I missed you so much,” I heard myself say. “Is this real? Am I dreaming?”

            “It’s real.”

            “Did you miss me, too?” I meant it jokingly, not sure how I was even capable of teasing at that point. But in response, Levi squeezed me more tightly. I’m not sure how long we sat like that. Maybe it was minutes, hours, days. Years. Centuries. Lifetimes.

            “Levi?” I whispered.

            “What?”

            “I love you. You don’t have to say you love me back. Just don’t leave.”

            “I’m not gonna leave.”

            He pulled away and helped me lie down. And then, despite the fact that the sheets were stained with blood and I was still recovering, he burrowed beneath the covers and curled up beside me. He grasped my arm and brought his face close to my neck and he kissed it, so tenderly that I hardly felt it. And yet felt it more than I’d ever felt anything. It moved mountains.

            “I’m not gonna leave. Not again.”

            “I’m sorry that I followed you. And that I messed up your deal.”

            “Eren.”

            “I’m sorry that I threw up on your shoes.”

            “Eren, please.”

            “I’m sorry that I accidentally fell asleep on your couch so many times.”

            “Eren.”

            “I’m sorry that I made you drive me everywhere.”

            “Stop it.”

            “I’m sorry that I called and texted you all the time.”

            “You don’t—”

            “I’m sorry that I ignored Mikasa, and Erwin, and even you.”

            “Eren, please stop.”

            “I’m sorry that I fell in love with you. I’m really, really sorry.”

            I had never seen Levi cry before. But I felt him crying silently against my neck at that moment and it was crushing.

            “Me, too,” he said. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

            “What wasn’t supposed to happen?”

            “This.”

            “This?”

            “I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.”

            I went to sleep again, comforted by the fact that even though I was still in the abyss, still digging myself deeper and deeper with every moment...

            Levi was digging right beside me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes of course it had to be mikasa because i'm in love with her


	32. I Meet His Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

**31**

**I Meet His Friends**

 

            I had a different dream that night. It wasn’t a nightmare, but it wasn’t nice, either. I was standing at the hilltop that Levi had taken me to, and I was staring out over this kingdom. My toes hung over the edge and I spread my arms out, held back ever so slightly from falling by the wind. The sky was the bluest shade I had ever seen it, and the sunlight was warm and seeped into my skin. But I wasn’t alone, I realized. There was one person on either side of me. To my right, a tall, lean young man with sandy hair and a tender smile. To my right, a young woman with red hair and eyes like the ocean and a smile as wide as it could go. They both looked over at me, and then reached up and grabbed my hands. They squeezed. I grinned back at them and we stared over the edge together. We wanted to soar, using the our individual strengths and desires piled together through the bonds of our fingers pressed to each other.

            We took a collective step forward, preparing to jump. The young woman tugged on my hand and gestured for me to stare ahead—not down. So I looked out at the horizon and saw the sun. It was a strange shade of yellow. Almost red, dotting the sky with bloody speckles. We exchanged glances one more time, and then we swung our hands back and we jumped forward off the ledge.

            But I was pulled back. Strong, desperate fingers grabbed the back of my shirt and ripped me backwards, forcing my hands to slip from theirs. I landed back onto the ledge and was forced to watch, grounded once more, as the two of them leaped. They turned to stare back at me, their eyes wide and their mouths open. They looked suddenly afraid and uncertain, almost betrayed. I called out to them, suddenly realizing that they couldn’t soar. They didn’t have the wings for it. I wanted to save them as I had been saved, so I reached out for them. But it was too late. They fell through the air and out of my line of sight, down past the ledge, toward the ashen ground.

            When I woke up I was trembling, my teeth chattering, sweating bullets. My fever had risen again. Levi was still beside me in the bed. As soon as my eyes opened and the tremors took hold of me, he sat up and grabbed my medicine and helped me force it down. When I lay back down he propped himself up on his elbow beside me and ran his hands through my hair. Oily and unkempt and matted as it was. I closed my eyes for a few moments, letting myself become lost in the salvation of his touch. Then I opened them and I turned and smiled at him. He bent forward and put a kiss to my forehead.

            “I had a weird dream,” I said.

            “Yeah?”

            “Mhmm. You were in it. Isabel and Farlan were in it, too.”

            He furrowed his brow, but kept his fingers in my hair. Kept his thumb stroking my cheeks. He looked awfully tired.

            “Isabel and Farlan?” he repeated. “They were in your dream?”

            “Yeah. We were trying to fly together, the three of us. But when we jumped, you pulled me back, because you knew we couldn’t fly.”

            He didn’t say anything. He just kissed my forehead again. Pressed his lips down for an eternity against my salty skin.

            “Do you miss them, Levi?”

            “Don’t ask questions you know the answers to,” he murmured.

            “Sorry.”

            He curled beside me again and I didn’t want this warmth to end.

            “Hey. Can you...can you say it again?”

            “Say what?”

            “What you said before. Can you say it to me again before I go to sleep? For real?” I knew that he understood what I was talking about. He put his arm across my chest, being careful to avoid my injuries, and put his lips to my ear.

            “I’m in love with you, Eren,” he breathed.

            I wasn’t truly convinced that I had actually woken up.

* * *

            

            After my injuries, I had slept for three days before waking up. Even after that, I stayed in Levi’s bed for about a week, without the will or the energy to move. Mikasa and Levi took care of me and changed my wraps (I had some nasty gashes with stitches and the whole nine yards) and kept me company, Hanji cooked for me, Erwin brought me a few video games to play. Armin was around a lot, too—as I should’ve guessed, he was the reason that I was alive. After he’d seen me with Mikasa’s phone (his suspicions raised by the fact that I declined any offers to hang out the next day), he had actually told her about it. Which was how she was able to get there before they blew my head off. By the time he actually came to see me, I had figured it out myself, and I hugged him as tightly as I could regardless of the pain. They just told everybody else that I had taken a nasty fall and was in the hospital.

            Levi slept in the bed with me at night. Sometimes the medicine got to my head and I would ramble about who knows what until I fell asleep, and he always listened. Other times we were both completely silent, holding each other as if we were trying to make up for the weeks that we’d been apart. Compensating for the nights that we hadn’t been able to. His body fit so well that I questioned if he had ever left all—the indentations in my arms and my chest from the curves of his legs and his stomach were still there, waiting for him. We drank each other in and let this beautiful, soothing silence mend that which had been broken. It pieced itself back together, piece by piece, held together by the promises that we made each other every night to never leave each other, never leave this place, this broken and dirty home we had built. But it was, after all, home, and we felt safe there. Even if rain dripped through the holes in the ceilings and it shook and rattled and nearly toppled over during storms.

            He would smoke a cigarette at the window before coming to bed every night and I would watch. Sometimes I asked him to turn his back to me so that I could see his tattoo.

            After a few days, when I felt that I had the strength and Levi had finally had enough, he helped me take a bath. It was the first time I’d gotten out of bed. My arm around his shoulder, he essentially dragged me—I couldn’t walk very well yet, what with the giant gash in my leg—to the bathroom, where he had already gotten everything set up. At first, the water against my skin felt scalding. I cringed and jumped back, but he gave me a menacing glare and I knew there was no going back. Thankfully, after a few minutes of hellish heat, the water felt good in my pores and on my injuries.

            “There you go. You stinky poop.”

            “Did you just call me a stinky poop?”

            He clicked his tongue, rolled up his sleeves, spread the shampoo onto hands, and then into my hair.

            “Close your eyes.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            He worked the shampoo through my scalp, his fingers digging in deep and expert motions. It relaxed my entire body. I felt my muscles becoming limp and leaned back in the tub.

            “Don’t fall asleep.”

            “I won’t.”

            He doused my head with water and washed out the shampoo. I felt like a little kid again, being fed and cleaned and pampered. He washed my hair with another round of shampoo, so I closed my eyes again. I kept them closed when he rinsed it out. So I wasn’t expecting it when I felt wet, heavy pressure against my lips. I smiled as he kissed me, the taste of shampoo mixed with tobacco on my mouth. His hand crept up to my neck and pulled me in tighter, and he forced my smiling lips apart with his tongue. Pushed it to mine, deep and probing, twirling and graceful and hungry. I heard myself groan into his mouth and lean back, heard him lean over the edge of the tub. His teeth came down gently on my lip and pulled, leaving me breathless and tingling. His thumb moved across my jaw and a chill ran down my spine, intense and weakening. I sank into the water but he followed me, sinking his tongue deeper and pressing his lips harder. Just when I felt that I needed to take a breath, he pulled away and put his forehead against mine.

            “Levi—”

            “Just shut up,” he murmured, his lips brushing mine as he spoke. His hand moved up to my hair and pulled it back slightly. I let him arch my neck back, and then his lips were there on my skin. I sighed and closed my eyes as I felt the wetness of his tongue, swirling and sucking, the sharp and blissful pain of his teeth sinking in. He breathed out and I sucked his breath into my body, groaned when he put his other hand in the center of my chest.

            When he lifted his lips, I heard myself say, “Don’t stop.” Then I heard him give a dry chuckle. The tips of his black hair tickled against my quivering skin, suddenly numb to the pain of my wounds. I felt only him. Only his breath. The indentations and intricacies of his tongue. I rolled my head back and he held it, kissed my neck, breathing out like an animal as I moaned and raised my hand to his arm.

            “Does it hurt?” he murmured. He moved his hand slightly down, submerging it in the water. He was dragging me deeper again.

            “Yes. But don’t stop.”

            “Fucking idiot.” He pressed his palm down beneath my belly button (of course still avoiding my injuries), and a tremor overtook my muscles. He reached up and bit gently against my ear. Then he sighed my name into my ear and lowered his hand to my semi-hard cock.

            “Bet it’s been a while, hasn’t it...?” he whispered. I leaned my cheek against his arm and wrapped my fingers tightly around it as he fondled me. Let his tongue trace the outline of my ear. Before I knew it was like a rock, and he was laughing at me quietly, but I didn’t care. I was lost in this pleasure—he was right. It had been a while. And the sensations were heightened by the water, warm and encasing, as he cupped me and began to pump.

            “Mm...”

            My toes curled and he moved faster. But, obviously, being underwater made things a little bit harder (yes that pun was intended, in case you were wondering). Still, it felt incredible, and I sank into it. Let myself feel every detail.

            “Doing okay?”

            “Fuck,” I responded.

            He moved his hand and pulled away completely, leaving me breathless and desperate and horny as I grasped his arm. I opened my eyes to look into his face. He blinked, slowly, drops of water now streaming down his face. He put his hand to my cheek and his thumb to my lower lip. The corner of his lips turned up ever so slightly, and then he rolled his sleeves up further. Eyes still on me.

            “What?” I said.

            “Nothing.”

            He put one hand in the center of my chest, and slid the other into the water, down my leg. I caught my breath as the short, inevitable pain erupted from the injury in my leg, but it passed quickly. He blinked at me again. And then, without a word, he held his breath and lowered his head into the water.

            “L-Levi, what are you—?”

            I was interrupted by the gasp that escaped my open lips as I felt his mouth encase my dick. This was unlike anything I had ever felt before, and my entire body was rattled. I leaned back and breathed out into the misty air, felt his tongue twisting and turning, deep shallow deep shallow. When he came back up for air, now completely wet and breathless, I was dizzy and lightheaded. Seeing the red complexion in his cheeks, the way he was gasping to catch his breath, the jet black tendrils of his hair sticking to his face and the clear fluids on the corners of his mouth, I felt myself throb. Before I could even say anything, he went back down again and I was taken over by unparalleled pleasure. I couldn’t even hear myself moaning, couldn’t hear myself think, as the world spun.

            “Ah...Levi...!”

            He bobbed back up again, caught his breath, and went back down. Again and again, taking me deeper and harder. Each time a new surge of pleasure and intimacy washed over me and I was plunged down with him. He could hold his breath for an astonishingly long time.

            “I’m—ah, wait—!” Though, being underwater, I suppose he couldn’t hear me.

            Obviously we drained the tub after that and had to start over with the whole bath thing. For some reason, as he helped me wash my back and around the cuts so that I didn’t smell like blood and shit anymore, I couldn’t stop laughing and making fun of him. Whenever I tried to say something—you look so sexy when your hair is wet, Levi—he would shoot me an angry, resentful glare and tell me to shut up. After he got me back to the bed, he sat behind me and dried my hair with a towel. I closed mye yes and felt exhaustion overcoming my senses, being lulled to sleep by the motion of his hands against my scalp. Finally, after forcing me to stay awake to change my wraps, he gave me my medicine and lowered me to the bed.

            “Thanks, Mom.”

            “Shut the fuck up,” he replied. But tenderly. As I grinned up at him, he bent down and kissed my lips.

            “No cuddles?”

            “I’m gonna have a smoke. I’ll come to bed afterward.”

            “Okay...”

            I tried to watch him smoke, but I was asleep before he could even get his golden lighter out.

 

* * *

 

            On the day that I decided to go back to my room, having regained most of my strength and the ability to walk without crumpling to the floor like a rag doll, I was sitting on Levi’s bed getting my things together. Mikasa was outside, waiting to walk me back to my dorm. Levi was leaning against the door with his arms crossed, scrolling through his phone. When he looked up and caught my eye, I smiled at him.

            “Hey, do you mind if I ask you something personal?” I asked as he put on his black leather jacket. He just furrowed his brow at me, so I continued. “What happened with Isabel and Farlan?”

            “It’s a long story.”

            “I’m not in a rush.”

            He paused and looked over at me. Then, with a gentle sigh, he gave in. He knew that I pretty much knew the story, anyway—I wanted to hear it from his mouth.

            “Farlan was my best friend. We met on the streets. Both of us were in shitty situations so we figured it would be better to stick together. We made our living as thieves, essentially. We hardly stole for ourselves, though. We usually stole things from the higher-ups in exchange for pay from other higher-ups. Know what I mean?”

            “Sure.”

            “I guess you could say we made a name for ourselves, but we knew the city and the underground so well that the police couldn’t catch up to us. Any time anybody needed anything done illegally, they came to us. We weren’t comfortable by any means, but we were making it. We had found a way to use our skills and that was fine by us.”

            “What about Isabel?”

            “Isabel was another street urchin. When she heard about us, she made it her life’s goal to find us. She begged us to let her tag along with us.” His voice trailed off and a faraway look took over his eyes. The smallest smile crept to his lips. “We couldn’t say no. She was energetic and ambitious and compassionate—not anything like me.”

            “What was Farlan like?”

            “Cool and collected. He was my voice of reason when I lost myself. Isabel, too. We took care of each other.”

            He grabbed the picture of them on his desk and stared at it.

            “We got mixed up with the wrong people. We got a job that we should’ve said no to. But they were offering a shit-ton of money that we very desperately needed. Wanted us to infiltrate one of the tiny hideouts of the crime syndicate and steal some papers they had.”

            “Had you had run-ins with the crime syndicate before?”

            “Sure. But we kept out of each other’s business.”

            “That doesn’t make sense to me.”

            “Doesn’t make sense to anyone but those who’ve lived in that world,” he said, placing the picture back down. “There are unspoken rules that we follow. I guess, in a way, the three of us broke those rules. We went where we shouldn’t have and crossed lines, and they didn’t take any mercy on us. I watched them kill my best friends.”

            His face didn’t even change expression.

            “I thought I was going to die, too. But the police showed up and I ended up in jail. Alone. As it turned out, the people who had given us the job in the first place were undercover agents who were trying to get to the crime syndicate. Farlan and Isabel had no idea, of course, but I knew the entire time. And I took the risk. I wanted the money. We all wanted it.”

            “And you agreed to the deal the police made you because you want to take revenge on them,” I said. He shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets.

            “I don’t know if revenge is the right word,” he replied. “I don’t feel the need to avenge their deaths, if that’s what you mean. Not the way you feel about your mother. I just...”

            He paused for a long time.

            “I just want to get rid of them. I have no reason not to anymore. I don’t have anywhere else to go or anyone else to be.”

            “I don’t think that’s true.”

            “And what do you know, brat?”

            “I bet there are a lot of reasons not to. I bet you could hop in your car and drive far, far away from here, and by the time the police figured it out you’d be long gone. I think you could do whatever you want.”

            “Still as naïve as ever.”

            “Why would that have changed?”

            “You’d think getting stabbed a few times would help,” he smirked.

            I shook my head. He reached his hand out and I grabbed it, and we walked out to meet Mikasa.            

            “Is that why you were attracted to me in the first place?” I murmured. “Because I remind you of her?”

            “Maybe. I don’t know. Does it matter?”

            “No.”

            “Your eyes are like hers.”

            “Yeah?”

            “And you’re both annoying as fuck.”

            I elbowed him, and he elbowed me back, and then we said I love you and we really meant it.


	33. I Just Sit on My Ass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which i'm still obsessed with Mikasa
> 
> and Eren is still a dork
> 
> (☉ε　⊙ﾉ)ﾉ

**32**

**I Just Sit on My Ass**

 

                   Since everyone was preoccupied with my near-death experience, we missed Mikasa’s birthday. So Armin and I forced pretty much everybody we knew to prepare a surprise party for her. Sasha, Connie, Jean, and Marco were in charge of the food—Krista and Ymir were in charge of the decorations—Annie, Bertholt, and Reiner were in charge of the playlist—and Armin and I oversaw everything. We made sure to keep it an absolute secret. I didn’t want her to have even the slightest idea. We concocted stories and sneaked around and, in the end, she really didn’t see it coming. We invited pretty much everyone. Levi, Hanji, Petra, Erwin, and Mike showed up, and we crammed ourselves into Sasha and Mikasa’s room, with the lights out, waiting for her to return. It was almost two weeks now since her birthday, but I didn’t care. I wanted to do this for her, without her having to ask. Krista had bought little bags of confetti and party hats so we all looked the part. I even got a hat onto Levi, while he clicked his tongue and blushed like a kid.

                   We fell completely silent when we heard a key in the door. It opened. Then she flicked on the lights. Like the well-prepared, choreographed group that we were, we all jumped up and threw confetti and screamed out Happy birthdays so that the entire campus could hear us. She froze, hand still on the light switch, bag hanging over her shoulder. Connie ran over and sprinkled confetti over her head and Reiner started the music.

                   “Wh...what?” She just blinked at us.

                   “Happy birthday, Mikasa,” Armin said, grabbing her hands.

                   “Did you do this?”

                   “We all did it together,” he replied. “But it was really Eren’s idea.”

                   She turned her gaze to me, smiling as Levi leaned his arm on my shoulder and swatted Erwin’s hand from his party hat.

                   “Eren, why did y—?”

                   “Well, it was my fault that we missed your birthday,” I said. “I wanted to make up for it somehow. Too much?”

                   She shook her head and her lips finally curled into a wide, elated smile. Levi walked up to her, took off his party hat, and put it on her head.

                   “CAN WE CUT THE CAKE NOW?” Sasha cried. So we cut the cake and celebrated Mikasa’s birthday with her, and I was so glad that we had done this, because it was the first time I had seen her truly smiling in months.

                   When the party died down and people were starting to trickle out, we all cleaned up. Then, in single-file like we’d planned, we all stood in front of Mikasa and placed one kiss on her cheek. By the time it was my turn, she was completely red, her eyes wide.

                   “Happy birthday,” I said, kissing her cheek. Levi stepped up to her and stood on his tiptoes to kiss her cheek, and then they held each other. He walked me back to my dorm and agreed to stay the night. We were both too tired to do anything but burrow under the covers and spoon.

                   “That was a really good thing you did,” he said.

                   “You think so?”

                   “Yeah. I know it meant a lot to her.”

                   “It’s the least I could do. She does way too much for me.”

                   “Yeah, but it’s what she wants. We need places to put our affection and our energy, and you’re that place for her.”

                   “I wish I could do more.”

                   “Just keep being there for her. And when she asks you to do something, do it.”

                   “Did she tell you to stay away from me, too? When this whole mess started?”

                   “Not in those exact words, but yeah.”

                   “And Erwin did, too.”

                   “Of course. Almost everybody did.”

                   “Why?”

                   “Why do you think? Mikasa knew I would get you into trouble, which I did, and Erwin knew that I would get distracted, which I also did. But by the time he said it I was sick of following his rules.”

                   “Wait, so...you strung me along just because Erwin told you not to?”

                   “I’ve always been the rebellious type, didn’t you know?”

                   “You asshole.”

                   I squeezed him as tightly as I could, until he lightly elbowed me. I started to laugh and blew onto the back of his neck.

                   “That’s how it started, at least,” he continued.

                   “When did your feelings change?”

                   “Maybe the first time you fell asleep on my couch.”

                   “Oh, yeah. When I was studying for my econ exam.”

                   “It might’ve been before that. But when I saw you there, like a little drunk kid on my couch, it was the first time I was consciously aware of it.”

                   “Wow, it has a heart.”

                   “Shut the fuck up, brat.”

                   He turned his face over his shoulder to look at me, and I met him with a kiss below his eye.

                   “Well, I’m glad your feelings finally changed,” I murmured against his skin, “because I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you.”

                   “You mean when you were wasted and getting the shit kicked out of you?”

                   “I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you since the _second_ time I saw you.”  

                   “Or maybe you just wanted to fuck me.”

                   “That, too.”

                   “You’re so fucking cute.” He reached up and pinched my nose. I scrunched my face up and puckered my lips, until he kissed me.

                   “Hey, hey, let me ask you something.”

                   “You’re still not asleep?”

                   “I’m serious.”

                   “All right.”

                   “What were you doing when you called me that one time? That time it was six in the morning. After you took me to the gardens and we slept together for the first time. Do you remember?”

                   “I remember.”

                   “Why did you call me?”

                   “I wanted to hear your voice.”

                   “Really?”

                   “Yes.”

                   “What were you doing?”

                   “Erwin and I were...well, we were in a rough spot.”

                   “With the thugs, you mean?”

                   “Obviously.”

                   “And even in the middle of that, you called me?”

                   “It wasn’t in spite of the situation. It was because of the situation.”

                   My heart stopped and a warmth filled my every pore. I blinked back the happy tears rushing to my eyes and buried my face in the back of his neck.

                   “Are you serious?” I mumbled.

                   “Of course I am.” He grabbed my hand, wrapped around his chest, and kissed it. “You’re crazy and you’re stupid. But your voice and your eyes and the way you always ask my permission to say things calms me down. Makes me remember myself. I thought I was losing my mind that time—we were in over our heads and the frustration was getting to be too much. So I called you.”

                   “Levi...”

                   “Are you crying?”

                   “No.”

                   “Liar.”

                   “I’m just really glad that I can give you something like that,” I managed. To hear the words coming from his mouth, the confession of just how much I meant to him, was too heavy for me to bear at that moment. “I’m really, really glad.”

                   “What, did you think I was taking advantage of your vast sexual knowledge?”

                   “You’re so mean.”

                   “But you knew that.”

                   “What about on New Year’s?”

                   “Erwin and I had just gotten back. I was hurt bad. Got into a nasty brawl.”

                   “I remember. You sounded terrible.”

                   “I was also a little bit delusional. Tripping on a shit-ton of painkillers. I needed to talk to you. So I made Hanji call Mikasa so that I could. Hanji and Erwin both tried to stop me. But I needed you.”

                   “You know you didn’t have to leave in the first place if you needed me so badly.”

                   “That was exactly _why_ I had to leave.”

                   “Guess it doesn’t matter now, though, right? You’ve just given up trying to be the hero. I hope.”

                   “As long as you don’t get yourself skewered again.”

                   “I’m still sorry about that.”

                   “You should be. I almost had a fucking heart attack.”

                   “Do you think Erwin was really going to let me die?”

                   He paused. Kissed my hand again.

                   “Yes.”

                   “R-really?”

                   “Erwin doesn’t fuck around.”

                   “Oh.”

                   “Doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. Or that he wouldn’t lose sleep over it. Because trust me—he does and he would. Just means he feels strongly about what the right and wrong decisions to make are.”

                   “If Mikasa hadn’t shown up I would’ve died.”

                   “Shut up.”

                   “Okay.”

                   I kissed the back of his neck and he squeezed my fingers in his. Then we closed our eyes and sank into the sheets.

                   “Love you, asshole.”

                   “Love you, too, brat.”

                   “I’m glad you let your mask fall around me,” I whispered. “You don’t have to keep being strong, you know. And it doesn’t have to be over the phone.”

                   “Yes, I do.”

                   “If you need to be weak, even if it’s just for a little bit, I’ll hold you up.”

                   “...I know.”

                   “Good.”

                   “Now go to sleep.”

                   “Okay.”    

                  

* * *

 

                   I asked Levi to take me back to the hill that he had discovered with Isabel and Farlan. We drove down the same road that we had on our first date, and I leaned my head against the window to watch it all pass by. Every few moments he would lift his hand from the stick and brush my cheek, quickening my pulse and making my limbs tingle. We weren’t in a rush, didn’t feel pressured or upset or nervous. We let ourselves be carried by the wheels and the wind, forgetting that this earth wasn’t made just for the two of us to enjoy on this sunny Sunday afternoon. We got out of the car and, just like last time, climbed up to the very top. Levi sat down at the edge and let his short legs dangle, lighting his cigarette. I stood beside him and spread my arms out, as I remembered myself doing in my dream. I knew that if I fell, he would be there to catch me. I thought for a moment about trying it. But then I came to my senses and satisfied myself with the feeling the wind on my face and between my fingers.

                   “Don’t stand so close to the edge,” he mumbled. I grinned down at him, then relented and fell onto my back beside him.

                   I stared up at the sky and listened to the sound of him inhaling the toxins. Always so comforting. I felt so high, so intensely in love when he put his hand gently on my leg, that I was dizzy. Music played in my head when I glanced over at him and found his gaze fixed at the sky. Neck arched back. Smoke from the cigarette rising up toward the sun. I could see the tattoo on the back of his neck. I put one arm behind my head and reached my other hand up to brush his cheek. Watched him close his eyes at my touch. It didn’t seem real to me that someone like him, someone I’d admired and pined for since first meeting, had fallen in love with me.

                   _Me._

“What are you thinking about?” I asked. He opened his eyes and leaned back on his elbows. Bringing the cigarette back to his lips.

                   “Good question.”

                   “You have to be thinking about _something_.”

                   He glanced over at me, silent and smooth.

                   “You’re beautiful,” I blurted. He blinked, smiled, and tossed his cigarette over the edge. Just like last time. “Have you ever wanted to fly?”

                   “What?”

                   “I mean, you have those wings on your back. You’ve probably thought about it.”

                   He pulled out another cigarette.

                   “Everybody wants to fly.”

                   “Do you think you ever will?”

                   “No,” he scoffed. “I’m stuck here.”

                   “Then I’m stuck here, too.”

                   He shook his head.

                   “No. You still have wings. You should use them.”

                   _I won’t fly unless it’s with you._

_So as long as you’re grounded, so am I._

 

* * *

 

I guess I should’ve seen the signs.

                   They’d been there from the start.

                   Signs of the poison spreading through my body.

 

* * *

 

                   I had to start taking my medicine again because, in the weeks that followed Mikasa’s birthday party and my unofficial discharge, the attacks were becoming dangerously common. Suddenly everything I saw reminded me of my mother. If not of my mother, of the murderers that had taken her from me. Now that I had actually seen them, and knew that they existed, my mind was ravaged with the crippling memories and my heart was constricted with a bloodlust I hadn’t known myself capable of.

                   _Dead, dead, dead._

_I want them all dead._

I stopped having nightmares—in the traditional sense. Instead I dreamed of myself with the knife, slashing and stabbing those donning their skull and roses tattoos. I stabbed them over and over and over, showering myself with their blood and grinning as I watched their eyes roll back in their heads and heard their hearts stop beating because of _me_. They had taken everything from me. Every night I dreamed of it, and I woke up with my fingers tingling and my heart racing and my breathing ragged. If Levi was in bed with me, he would grab my shaking hands and force me down against the pillows and put his lips to my forehead until I stopped shaking and my breathing returned to normal. Then he would run his fingers through my hair until I fell asleep again. He told me that I was talking in my sleep. Saying terrible things.

                   _Kill._

_All of them._

I tried to talk to him and Erwin about their operations, but they always managed to avoid the conversation. They had become experts at changing the subject. I wanted to know as much as they did about the crime syndicate. More than that, I wanted to be involved with them. I wanted to take them on myself.

                   As dark and morbid as it is to say, I wanted to make my dream a reality. For my mother. For Mikasa’s mother. For Isabel and Farlan. For anyone who had ever found themselves at the mercy of these killers.

                   For Levi, so that he could fly.

                   Mikasa, Armin and I were at dinner when I decided to mention it to them.

                   “I want to join up with Erwin and Levi,” I said. Mikasa dropped her spoon, and Armin nearly choked on his food.

                   “Eren, _what?”_ he stuttered.

                   “Do you expect me to just sit here on my ass, knowing that they’re doing something to fight against the people that killed my mother?”

                   “Yes. That’s exactly what we expect,” Mikasa said. Stone-faced. Frightening. But I swallowed back my apprehension and looked her in the eyes. “You have no strength or skill that would allow you to take part at all. You’re not trained.”

                   “I know, but—”

                   “I can tell that you’re still limping a little bit,” she ruthlessly pointed out. “Have you already forgotten the mess you got yourself in a few weeks ago?”

                   “I mean, no—”

                   “Then what the fuck makes you think that you can do it?” she interrupted. “And what makes you think Erwin would even want you?”

                   “You can’t just tell me what to do all the fucking time,” I cried. “It’s not your decision to make.”

                   “Guys, please,” Armin murmured. Other people in the dining hall were starting to look at us, but I didn’t care.

                   “You’re not thinking rationally,” she replied. As my temper rose and my muscles tensed, she didn’t even bat an eyelash. It drove me nuts.

                   “What do you want me to do?”

                   “Nothing.”

                   “I need to do _something_.”

                   “Keep following your original plan.”

                   “I can’t. Not when they’re right here...right in my grasp.”

                   “But they’re not. You’re delusional. They’re just as far away from you as they were when you met that good-for-nothing punk.”

                   “If they just taught me and let me—”

                   “You think they have time for you?” She said it so nonchalantly and it caught me off-guard. “You think you’re worth their time?”

                   “Hey, Mikasa,” Armin said quietly. “You don’t have to be so harsh.”

                   “If that’s what it takes to get him to see reason, then yes, I do,” she said. Eyes still on me. “If you think that, Eren, then you’re more delusional than I thought. Or did you forget already that Erwin was going to let you die? You’ll be a burden to them. They don’t want your help.”

                   I stared down at my empty plate.

                   “You can’t do anything to help them except stay out of their way. What Levi told you before is still true. You can’t fight them.”

                   I choked back the angry sobs. Mikasa leaned forward and lowered her head, so that she was looking into my red, angry face.

                   “The best thing you can do now is to stay out of their way. Work your way forward. Do what you’ve been planning to do the whole time—and when the time comes, you’ll be ready to do what you need to do. But don’t delude yourself into thinking that now is that time.”

                   There were few things I hated more than admitting Mikasa was right.

                   So instead, I just shut my mouth and stared at my clenched fists. Feeling awfully heavy.


	34. I Celebrate My Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )
> 
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**33**

**I Celebrate My Birthday**

 

            I tried to turn my frustration into determination. I knew, with every fiber of my being, that Mikasa was right. Trying to do anything at that point was useless; I wasn’t ready. I had no particular skills to offer. And I was certain to be a burden to Erwin and Levi. I was heavy and naïve and the worst part was that I knew that, but was still so frustrated that I could do nothing. It was like seeing a real vision of my dream for the first time, but still couldn’t get any closer to it. I begrudgingly took a step back and thought about where to go from here. Erwin, at the very least, kept me updated; when I tried to bring it up with Levi he refused to talk about it, and became touchy. So it was a subject I avoided when we were together (a majority of the time, I should add). After a few weeks, the novelty of it all faded away—which isn’t to say that I lost interest. But I was able to fall back into a semblance of the routine that I’d had before. I kept my research habits—the newspapers, the police radios, the internet searches, constantly begging Erwin to tell me every detail—to myself. And I kept the dreams to myself.

            It was easier than I thought because I had something anchoring me. A place to turn when I needed to know where to go or what to say. Someone who would say “I love you” when I needed him to.

            Levi and I fell even deeper than I thought we could. And I had already been pretty deep. But there was a flame between us that kept growing, burning hotter and redder, never cool or calm for a single moment. We sat beside it and let it warm us from our chilled toes up through our shivering arms and to our hearts, beating as one, unaware of the fact that we were catching fire and burning. The pleasure and passion numbed the pain of the flames licking at our skin.

            I’m not sure how he felt, but I was astonished at the perseverance of my affections for him. Each time I felt that perhaps I was getting accustomed to his constant presence, or becoming desensitized to the taste of his skin and the feeling of his fingers pulling at my hair, I was hit with a wave of refreshed awe. Every time we made love it was like the first time. We never kissed idly. Always with purpose and dangerous passion. I was worried at first that if I said “I love you” too many times it would lose its meaning, but I felt it so deeply in my stomach whenever I said it that I knew that would be impossible. I don’t think the dynamics of our relationship changed much, though.

            He said jump, I asked how high. He said follow me, I said hold my hand and show me where to go. “I’m walking through hell now,” he said. “As long as you’re still holding my hand,” I replied. He said let me squeeze your heart, I said dig your fingers in as far as they can go, until I can feel nothing but you. With his eyes sparkling, he did it. The fact that he felt love for me was, in the end, irrelevant. I was still his much more than he was mine. Erwin had had it all wrong, that day at dinner. When he had told me that I was poisoning Levi. I know now that I was cleaning him of the poison already flowing through his veins by taking it into my own. I wasn’t poisoning Levi. I was poisoning myself, and he was my vessel.

            Looking back, I wonder how we managed to sustain such passion with such consistency. It was a breathtaking love we had. The kind of affair that left everyone around us inspired, perhaps in a negative way. Thankfully, it wasn’t intoxicating enough that I distanced myself from my friends—at least, I didn’t distance myself from them anymore because of him than I did because of my own issues. There were days I felt panic attacks imminent from the moment I woke up, would take my medicine, would go to class, and would come back without saying a word. Other days the thought of being alone made my stomach turn. I kept studying. I kept working out—I even managed to hold my own in the ring against Mikasa for more than 30 seconds. I made more money working at the café. I applied for a summer internship at the prosecutor’s office, so I had something to look forward to at the end of the semester.

            Levi and I were hardly seen without each other. Sometimes my busy schedule, fueled by the incomparable determination and tenacity I was experiencing, kept us apart for a day at most. But we always found our way back to each other and collapsed into each other’s arms. I’m not entirely sure what I was to him. A shoulder to lean on? A cute kid to fuck? Someone he could listen to when he was tired of talking? But I do know that he loved me, even if the way he defined love may have been different from the way that I did. He loved me. He really loved me. Maybe as much as I loved him. Maybe less. Maybe more. But he loved me and that was all I needed to know to continue to unknowingly poison myself.

            Some nights we couldn’t stop smiling at each other and saying stupid things (well, usually I said stupid things and he listened). Other nights we admired each other silently, transmitting our emotions through the sparks of our physical connections.

            Some nights, though, Levi really took advantage of the way I spread myself out at his feet. He always apologized—in the way that only Levi Ackerman can apologize—afterward. I didn’t even need the apologies, if I’m being honest. I didn’t care.

            I didn’t care as long as I was his.

 

* * *

 

            For my birthday, he promised to take me anywhere I wanted.

            The actual day of, Mikasa and Armin took me out for dinner and then a big group of us went out to a club that I’d been reading about and wanted to try. Even though we were all underage. We just pregamed. I made sure that every single person in the club knew that it was my birthday and that I was now nineteen fucking years old. We danced and we went crazy, though Mikasa managed to keep a pretty good handle on things, the way she always did. The next day, though, after I’d gotten over my vicious hangover, I took Levi up on his offer. We hopped into his car and we drove to the city, to an absurdly fancy restaurant. We sat down like real pricks and had a full three-course meal, and he taught me how to do it as we went along.

            “And you hold the silverware like this.”

            “Like this?”

            “Close enough.”

            “Cool.”

            “Jesus, Eren, get your elbows off the table.”

            “What? Where am I supposed to put them?”

            “Up your ass.”

            To which I responded with an inappropriately placed wink that made him nearly choke on his lemon-infused water. After we were finished and were walking back to the car, I realized that as expensive as the food had been, I wasn’t filled at all. So, at my childish request, we went to the gardens to get pretzels. Then, in our relatively formal attire, stuffing our faces with cheesy pretzels, we sat down on the grass next to the pond and he turned and said to me, his face calm and warm and terrifyingly lovely, “Happy birthday, Eren.”

            I linked my arm through his and put my head on his shoulder and concentrated on the image of the stars in the water and the rhythm of his breaths.

            When we got back to my room, itching to feel each other, I told him that I wanted to bottom.

            “Huh?” he said, freezing as he took off his jacket. I fell backward onto the bed.

            “I want to bottom today.”

            “You serious?”

            “It’s my birthday, you said you’d give me anything I wanted.”

            “Eren.”

            “Hm?”

            “You do know that you can ask me that on days that aren’t your birthday...right?”

            I stuck my tongue out at him, and felt my body burn as he gave me a crooked smile. I watched, falling silent, as he slipped out of his jacket and let it fall to the floor. I let my eyes scan the details of his body—details that I had memorized—as he slowly, deliberately, tauntingly, unbuttoned his shirt. From the collar down, until I saw his muscles bulging from the tight undershirt beneath. Then he undid his belt, unzipped his pants, turned off the lights with his elbow as they fell around his ankles. I was blinded for a moment by the darkness. I could see nothing, but I heard him stepping forward. The bed shifted and I blinked, finally able to see his silhouette as he climbed onto the bed. He put his legs on either side of my body and sat up on his knees. I put my hands on his thighs and breathed in.

            “Fuck, you’re so sexy,” I said.

            “You know...” he began. His voice low and raspy and burrowing into my chest and through my limbs. Then he bent forward, still on his knees, and cupped my chin in his fingers. “You might regret asking to bottom.”

            A smile found its way to my lips.

            “Oh yeah?” I murmured.

            “Yeah.” He kissed my lips, and then bit down on them. Hard. Then I noticed that there was something in his hands, now that my eyes were adjusting to the darkness. It was his belt. My entire body shuddered.

            “All right then,” I sighed. I sank down to the bed and spread my limbs out, so that he knew how utterly in control he was. “I’m yours. Make me regret it.”

            I saw him lick his lips and I wondered, for a split second, if maybe I should’ve asked for something different.

            He started gently. The belt hanging around his neck, he unbuttoned my shirt. I let him move my limbs as he pleased, felt the tips of his cold fingers on my skin, until my torso was bare. He put his hand softly around my neck, then ran his fingertips down through the center, to the rim of my pants. My body arched ever so slightly, to meet his hands. I was a puppet and he held my strings in those delicate, bruised fingers of his. He leaned down and kissed me again, one hand pushing down against my chest. With his other hand, he smoothly grabbed the belt and pulled it from his neck. He became more aggressive then—his tongue pushed harder and deeper into me, his nails digging slightly into the skin of my chest. Then, with the hand holding the belt, he reached over and grabbed my arm. Grabbed my other arm. Still kissing me, biting down on my lip, so hard that I heard myself whimper and could taste blood, he put my wrists together and slammed them up against the bedpost.

            “Ah!”

            Then he tied my hands to the post with the belt. I was helpless, hanging from the bed, held up by only my wrists. I could already feel the pressure leaving red marks in my skin and I couldn’t ignore the slight pain in my wrists. I must’ve been contorting my face in pain, because I saw him smiling, his hand still grasping my wrists. With his other hand he forced my chin up, digging his fingers into my cheeks. Then, suddenly, he pulled away, but kept his hand on my chin.

            “We need a safeword,” he said.

            “A what?”

            “A safeword.”

            “Stop isn’t good enough?”

            “No,” he smirked. He squeezed my face more tightly and licked his lips again. “I wanna hear you _beg_ for mercy.”

            I held my breath.

            “Ravioli,” I blurted. He narrowed his eyes, and I felt terribly awkward. “Sorry, first thing that came to mind...”

            “Ravioli it is then.”

            I felt a little pang of fear then. I had never done anything like this. But I couldn’t deny that I enjoyed the slight pain—the feeling of being completely and totally his, helpless, now physically as well as emotionally.

            “Don’t worry. I’ll start off slow.”

            He kissed me again, but only for a moment, before he put his lips to the center of my chest and began to undo my pants. Within seconds he now had a second belt, and I was completely naked. I couldn’t help but struggle a bit at first, from instinct, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, I think it turned him on more. Suddenly, without warning, he brought his face close to mine, grabbed my hair, and pulled my head back until I found myself staring up at him, neck arched, body straining. I struggled against the restraints. He had something different in his hands then. It was my undershirt. He looked so much taller than me all of a sudden. So very dominant and in control. My muscles began to relax. Without saying anything, he took the undershirt, twisted it a bit, and began to tie it around my eyes.

            “W-wait—!”

            “You’re mine now, Eren,” he whispered in my ear as the world went dark. “And if I want you to be blindfolded, you’re gonna be blindfolded.”

            “Levi!”

            I remembered the safeword, and knew that if I were to say ‘ravioli’, he would take the blindfold off and untie me and hold me until I told him I was okay.

            But I didn’t want to say it. I let myself be blinded.

            I opened my mouth, my muscles tense in anticipation. I flinched as I felt the coldness of his palms on my stomach. Held my breath when I felt the tip of his tongue running along the insides of my open lips. I gasped then when pressed his palms down and sank his nails in, heard the felt the banging of my hands against the bedpost. His tongue moved down to my neck, and I arched my head back as the sensations began to explode. I’d heard about how intense it could be with sensation deprivation, but I didn’t think it would be like this. There was something strange and mesmerizing and unbelievably hot about not being able to see a damn thing.

            Suddenly I felt something cold against my hardening cock. I sighed out again and lifted myself up, feeling the tension of the belt. And then, at the same moment, a sharp pain erupted in my shoulder.

            “Ahh!”

            His tongue lapped up the blood from where his teeth had sunk into my skin, and the pleasure I felt was confusing even to me. To derive such sensations from pain...I became instantly harder. As I breathed out, I felt the breath stolen from me when he put his fingers against my tongue, thrusting them into my mouth. In the darkness, both the pain and the pleasure were heightened to new levels. He bit down again, and then dragged his tongue down to my erect nipple.

            “Mm, Levi...” My words muffled by his fingers.

            “Louder.”

            I felt him clamp his teeth down and I screamed his name, and he put his fingers in deeper. The grip on my cock tightened and I cried out again. Then he began to pump it, slowly. Even so slow I felt it, and dug my feet into the mattress. He moved faster, biting down harder, making me whimper.

            “St...Stop!”

            He just bit harder. He took his fingers from my mouth and pressed down against my chest. My body was in a terribly uncomfortable position. But the combination of that tension, that pain, with the ridiculous pleasure on my cock and from his lips, was electrifying. Heightened even more by the emotional state of being totally submissive to him. I knew that when I told him to stop, he wouldn’t, and it made the act of saying it that much more sensational.

            “Ah—I’m—!”

            “No you’re not.”

            He stopped abruptly, leaving me breathless on the edge of orgasm. I felt every sensation on my body stop, and my muscles relaxed again, suspended every so slightly by the belt. After a few moments, and hearing sounds that I couldn’t recognize, I felt his breath on my lips again, and I opened them. Instinct.

            “Say my name,” he murmured.

            “Levi...”

            “Again.”

            “Levi.”

            Then he brought his lips to my ear and his voice became gentler.

            “Doing all right?”

            I nodded wordlessly. Then I remembered him saying that he would start off slow, and my stomach churned. My cock was throbbing and my breathing was ragged.

            But I didn’t want to stop.

            “Good,” he said. He bit down on my ear and, ever so slowly, put his hand around my neck. Squeezed until I reflexively gasped. “Because I haven’t heard you begging yet.”

            He tightened his clutch around my throat, and his other hand ran up and down my naked body. I heard my own breath being caught, found it a little bit harder to breathe, struggled reflexively against the restraints and still blinded. I had no idea where his fingers would move next, where I would feel his tongue. What seemed like an eternity later, I felt a new sensation run across my chest. Surprised and frightened, I cringed and pulled against the restraints, only to fall limp to the bed again. He let go of my throat and I took a deep breath in. But it was ragged. I still didn’t know what it was that he was running along my chest. It was smooth and dry.

            Straddling me, he pressed his crotch down against mine. I clenched my fingers into fists and moaned, let the sensations erupt. In the next moment he moved the mystery object up to my outstretched neck. Wrapped it around. I realized, as I heard the clanks and felt the object tighten, that it was another belt—mine. He secured it around my neck, tightening it so that I just slightly felt the pressure against my throat. Even though I couldn’t see, I knew he was using it as a collar. Something I hadn’t quite been expecting. Not that I had been expecting any of this.

            Once it was secured, he pulled. Hard. Sitting down more heavily against me. I cried out and arched my body, and felt his lips above mine. Smiling, maybe. I tried to imagine the dominant expression on his face and I became weak with desire. Then everything moved quickly. He untied my wrists from the bedpost, keeping them bound together, and pushed me forcefully onto my stomach. I tensed my muscles and resisted, and he could sense it. I knew he could. So he pulled back on the collar and dug his knee into my back, forcing my neck back but my body down at the same time. I screamed out in a combination of exhilaration and pain, now feeling the pressure of the belt on my neck, making it harder to breath, as well as the pressure of his knee in my back and the belt still binding my wrists together.

            “A—!” I couldn’t even cry out. My breath was leaving me. I was getting lightheaded and any ounce of resistance in my muscles disappeared. “L-Levi, please...”

            He released tension in the belt and put his hand to the back of my head and forced it down onto the bed. I struggled to catch my breath, seeing colors in the darkness behind the makeshift blindfold. Then I felt his finger tracing the line of my spine, making me tingle, making me itch more for his touch. He was making me absolutely desperate. His lips fell to the center of my back and his tongue traced the line down, making me moan against the sheets of the bed. I felt his tongue swerving along my skin and just ignored my other senses. Blinded and immobile. Heart racing. Suddenly, I felt his cold palms against the cheeks of my ass, and before I could react, he spread them. In the next moment I felt a cold, wet sensation in my asshole and I flinched instinctively. After the initial moment of surprise, though, I let the pleasure run its course. His tongue moved in circles around the rim, and then moved in deeper—feeling at once terribly unnatural and terribly breathtaking.

            “Nn...”

            As his tongue moved deeper, then pulled out, over and over, flicking in circles , I felt the tug of the collar again on my neck. Then the cold sensation disappeared and I felt hollow—not for long, though. Because after a moment I felt a sharp, intense pain in my ass. The slick, long feeling of his fingers, covered in lube, thrusting inside of me. I cried out and bit down on the sheets of the bed. It felt like he was carving me out, disrupting the tightness. For a moment I regretted this. If this was the pain from his fingers, I couldn’t imagine the agony of what was to come next...

            I didn’t have much time to think about it.

            He pulled back, hard, on the collar, forcing me up onto my elbows. He withdrew his fingers and I let out the breath that had been trapped in my throat. As I reeled, he took my bound wrists and tied them again to the bedpost, this time leaving me suspended on my knees. I let my head hang as he supported my hips.

            “I’m going to fuck you until you don’t remember your own name,” he hissed into my ear. His words struck unexpected fear in me. The word was on the tip of my tongue—ravioli.

            _If I say it then he’ll stop and we can go back to our nice vanilla sex._

Then I took a moment to imagine him fucking me until I couldn’t remember my own name.

            _Screw that, fuck me senseless._

He gripped my hips and I bit down on my lower lip in preparation. Then he held me in place and, while I was tied and helpless, went inside of me. The pain was, as I expected, practically unbearable. My head reared back and I cried out. The bed shook as I struggled against the restraints, my knees nearly buckling. I would have fallen to my stomach if it weren’t for the belt tying me and his hands gripping my hips. He entered slowly, easing into me, making me flare up in pain.

            “Ah, sto...p!”

            I heard him groan and felt him stop, and assumed that he was all the way in. Then he began to thrust, moving back and then pushing back into me without mercy. I forced my face down and was deafened, blinded, by the pain. The feeling of his nails digging into the flesh of my hips. The belt digging into my wrists. But, as he moved, the pain subsided to a strange, numbing pleasure. My pained whimpers became moans of pleasure. At one point, he hit a spot that made me feel pleasure so sweet that I screamed his name without restraint. I hoped, even restrained and blindfolded, that I had given him this same pleasure. He began to move faster, gripping me harder. Then he grasped my erect cock and I was completely lost in the swirl of ecstasy. In the midst of it all I felt him grab the collar and pull again, and suddenly the pleasure was combined with the exhilaration of the asphyxiation.

            I begged him for mercy. He denied it, fucking me harder each time I cried out for him to stop. We came at the same time—I felt him shake, felt his cock throbbing inside of me, as my outcries were cut off by the belt around my neck.

            He undid my restraints and took off my blindfold and I collapsed onto the bed, my body shaken and my mind jumbled. He gathered the soiled sheets and threw them into my hamper, put his boxers back on, turned on the lights, and brought me a glass of water and a piece of chocolate. Then he sat beside me on the bed, rubbed the red marks on my wrists, and then stroked my hair.

            “Was that all right? You feeling okay?” he asked. Concern in his voice. Dazed and lightheaded, I smiled at him. When he brushed my cheek with the back of his hand, I began to laugh. “What?”

            “I’m just trying to imagine what it would’ve been like if I had started screaming ‘ravioli’ at the top of my lungs.”

            He smiled back at me, brushed my hair back from my forehead, and placed a kiss there.

            “I would’ve stopped in a heartbeat.”

            “I know. I trust you.”

            “Good.”

            “I love you, Levi.”

            “I love you, too, Eren.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> c'mon you all knew he was a dominating and sadistic bastard already didn't you
> 
> i now curse you to think of kinky gay sex every time you hear the word, see, or eat ravioli.
> 
> ur welcome. 
> 
> (be safe kids. use safewords. like ravioli. or dickbutt.)


	35. I Drown/Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i was originally gonna make the last part two separate posts, but i'm just gonna put them together, so...
> 
> here it is! last chapter! 
> 
> (*ﾟﾛﾟ)
> 
> wanna thank you guys so much for reading this story--I genuinely hope that you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I love you very much <3 
> 
> i'm in the middle of writing a bunch of other things that i shall soon post in this and other fandoms, so if you so desire, check it out yo.
> 
> (￣ω￣)
> 
> enjoy this final installation. I pray that, even if it's not the ending you were expecting/hoping for, it is an ending that can, in your mind, bring this story to a dramatic and emotional close. 
> 
> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
> 
> xoxo

**34**

**I Drown**

 

            _“I wonder when you’ll get sick of hearing me tell you that I love you.”_

_“I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of it.”_

_“Then I’ll keep saying it.”_

 

* * *

 

            Levi, Erwin, Hanji, and Mike graduated in May. I went with Armin and Mikasa to watch the ceremony. I’d seen Levi look disinterested in things (the majority of the time), but I really had never seen him look so ambivalent about anything before. It was almost comical. Afterward we went to the frat house for drinks and, while Mikasa destroyed the frat boys at ping-pong and Armin explained to Erwin the steps that he took to ensure his hair remained silky smooth, I sat on the sofa with Levi in my lap. We whispered to each other in hushed tones that nobody else could hear, saying things nobody else would understand, brushing each other’s cheeks with our eyelashes and letting our lips brush. It felt so natural, being in this place with these people. I wished it didn’t have to end, wished they didn’t have to graduate, wished that I didn’t have to leave my spot on this couch or loosen my grip around my lover’s waist. I kissed the back of his neck when nobody was looking and told him that I loved him.

            Obviously, he and Erwin needed to stay in the city. I was doing my internship at the prosecutor’s office over the summer so, understanding what we wanted without having to break the ice in bringing it up, Levi and I rented an apartment together. We moved in the very week after his graduation. Neither of us had much money so we just got the very minimal. A lot of the furniture was already there. On a hot summer’s day, sweating and rolling our sleeves up and taking breaks to drink lemonade, we moved boxes and shifted furniture and threw the windows open because we were too poor to find an apartment with air conditioning. It was small, with one bedroom, a small kitchen, and a living room. But it was a mansion for us.

            “Fuck it’s hot,” he said at one point, fanning himself with his hand.

            “Sorry, want me to leave?”

            “Up yours, you dork.”

            By the time we were finished (he insisted on cleaning the entire place, top to bottom), the place was sparkling and our fingers looked like prunes and the sun was starting finally to set. The sweat on our skin was drying up and we moved to the open window to look out at the bleeding sun descending behind the skyscrapers. He pulled out a cigarette, and as he leaned his elbows on the windowsill, I wrapped my arms around his waist and put my lips to his cheek.

            “You like the place?” he asked.

            “I love it.”

            “It’s not the biggest, but it’ll do.”

            “We could be living in a box on the streets and I wouldn’t mind.”

            “You liar.”

            “Nope.”

            He turned his cheek into my kiss and put his hand over mine. Then he finished his cigarette and we got dressed to go out for Chinese take-out.

           

* * *

 

            _“If I asked you stay here, in my arms, forever, would you do it?”_

_“Without a second thought.”_

_“Will you stay here? In my arms? Forever?”_

 

* * *

 

            That summer passed as both the happiest and darkest time of my life.

            Because when you have a love like that, a passion burning with such intensity, it hurts. It brings you to your highest point and then, before you can blink, it drags you down to your lowest point. I couldn’t have expected anything else from choosing to love Levi. I say ‘choose’, because you know what people say. Falling love happens whether you want it to or not—but staying in love is a choice. I think that’s bullshit now, to be honest. I don’t think I could have chosen anything else.

            During the day I went to the prosecutor’s office for my internship. For the first weeks it was exactly what you’d expect from an internship. Making copies and going on coffee runs. But eventually I started getting to shadow and go to court and take notes and talk to the police officers and agents that the prosecutor worked with. I wondered if one day I’d end up running into Erwin and Levi, but I should’ve known better. I had no doubt in my mind that the prosecutor knew about them, but I’m pretty sure it was his obligation to pretend not to know about the illegal things they were doing. It was enlightening and inspiring and when I saw the looks on victims’ faces, seeing the people who hurt them being brought to justice, I knew that this was what I wanted to do.

            In the evenings Levi and I made dinner. We went out. Did just about everything the city had to offer a few reckless, lovesick kids who had nothing better to do over the summer. We got used to ignoring what people said about us and we learned to focus on our own emotions, our own feelings, our own pains. I had never felt so complete, so satisfied, than I did that summer with Levi. Living together and sleeping together and cooking together and making messes and cleaning them up together. Singing to music terribly together, getting takeout together, sweating together, dancing when nobody was watching together, walking around in our underwear eating ice cream with sprinkles together. I was happy. I was so happy with him. I could come home and, if he wasn’t already sitting on the couch with a cigarette or setting the table for dinner, know that he would coming walking through the same door and I could hold him in my arms and complain about how much I missed him only for him to respond, “It hasn’t even been twelve hours.”

            We loved hard. Continued to burn bright and hot and dangerous. Pulled each other’s hair and scratched each other’s skin. Sometimes we were soft, letting our open lips hover and our fingers intertwine as the sheets twirled around our eager limbs.

            I was happier than I’d ever been.

 

* * *

 

_“Can I tell you something...kinda personal?”_

_“Of course.”_

_“I’ve never wanted anything the way I want you.”_

 

* * *

 

            I was more miserable than I’d ever been.

            My attacks became more frequent. Some days he forced me, almost physically, to take my medication. He would throw out the newspapers and hide the radio and once he even went so far that he cut off the wifi so that I couldn’t do any research on the Internet. I never felt satisfied, never felt comfortable, always felt like there was more I could be doing and there’s nothing more frustrating than that feeling. Absolutely nothing.

            As the intensity of our love ran its course, so did the intensity of every other emotion we felt. Frustration and anger and sadness. Some nights I went to bed with my screams still ringing in my ears. Some days we didn’t speak, didn’t touch. His indifference and coldness ripped me apart from the inside out, only for his gentleness and his sincerity to put me back together when the phases passed.

            He and Erwin were out a lot. He still wouldn’t tell me what he was doing—afraid that I was going to follow them or get involved. I found myself alone a lot of nights. The table set for two, the TV talking to itself, unbearable emptiness. I would sit on the floor of the kitchen, hugging my knees to my chest and tracing the stains on the tiles with my fingers as tears—from what? these running-too-high emotions?—slid from my eyes. I would ache for him. And then I would feel angry and abandoned and convince myself that I never wanted to see him again. So when he walked through the door at four in the morning with bruises and cuts and a nasty expression in his eyes I yelled and screamed and he spat at my feet and I took in more of his poison.

            Maybe the problem was that we always came back. Reached for each other with silent apologies. Always. Every time. I would cry myself to sleep only to wake up in the middle of the night and see him smoking. Then I would wordlessly get out of bed and lean my forehead against his shoulder, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my palms to his chest. My tears would begin to slide down his bare back while he stared out at the horizon and reached up to put his fingers in my hair.

            “I love you,” he would whisper. The only times he ever initiated our perhaps pointless declarations.

            “Do you really?”

            “Yes.”

            “I love you, too.” My voice trembling, fingers clutching. “Please come to bed.”

            “Okay.”            

 

* * *

 

            _“How deep into hell are we gonna drag each other?”_

_“Until we’re completely consumed with each other.”_

_“I’m already completely consumed with you.”_

 

* * *

 

            I came home one Friday, exhausted and getting sick of having to wear this stupid tie, and I heard strange sounds from within the apartment. I stood outside for a few moments, loosening my tie, and then I went inside.

            Levi was in the middle of the kitchen. Surrounded by everything we had in the cabinets, strewn onto the floor. Even the food. As I gazed, wide-eyed, at the rest of the room, I saw everything in disarray. Furniture overturned, what little decorations we had broken and thrown across the tile floor, the smell of something burning.

            He was pulling at his disheveled hair, gritting his teeth, shaking his head and pounding it. His breathing was ragged and his clothes torn and his eyes wild. I had never seen him like this. Had never imagined him like this. Was so shocked that I was paralyzed, could do nothing but watch, as he grabbed a pot from the counter and threw it across the room at the television. As it narrowly missed, hitting the ground with a loud thud, I came to my senses. I dropped my bag and ran. He grabbed another pan but I grabbed his wrists and screamed his name and stared into his crazed, bloodshot eyes.

            “Levi!”

            “Let go of me!”

            “What the hell are you doing? What happened?”

            “ _I said_ _let go.”_

Even as he said the words, he began to relent. As I shushed and said his name and forced him to lower his hands.

            “Hey. Hey, it’s okay.”

            Both of us shaking, I put my hands to his head and forced it down to my chest. I felt him reach up and grasp at the cloth of my shirt. We slid down to the floor together, and suddenly he was grasping me so tightly that it hurt, clutching as if afraid that I would disappear. And then he was crying against me and I was crying, too, though I wasn’t sure why. I stroked his suddenly small, suddenly vulnerable back.

            “I’m sick of it, I’m sick of it,” he said. “I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want this life.”

            “Levi...”

            “I can’t stand it anymore.”

            “Don’t lose sight of why you’re doing it in the first place,” I said. “Whenever I feel like shit, that’s what I think about.”

            He was silent, falling against me as the energy left his body.

            “No regrets, remember? You’re doing this because it’s important. Because it matters. Because you know you can.”

            “Maybe I’m just fucking insane.”

            “I don’t think so.”

            “Well you’re insane, too.”

            “I can’t argue with you there, I guess.”

            “Don’t let go.”

            “Never.”

 

* * *

 

            It was the only real breakdown I ever saw him have.

 

* * *

 

            The summer came and the summer went. We fell harder in love and by the time the new school year was peeking around the corner, I was drowning in his poison. Drinking it in with a stinging tongue that had become addicted to it. And even then, my skin peeling off and my eyesight blurring, all I could do was look up at him and wish that I could see him fly.

 

* * *

 

            _“Why can’t this be easy? It’s always so hard.”_

_“Nothing we deserve is ever ‘easy’ to get. The way of the world, I guess.”_

_“Maybe we don’t deserve it anyway.”_

 

* * *

 

            We decided to keep the apartment, meaning I would have to commute to class every day. I didn’t particularly mind. It was hard for the first few weeks getting back into the swing of college life. I couldn’t get back home until much later and spent the majority of my days studying with Mikasa and Armin. Sometimes Levi picked me up so I wouldn’t have to deal with the woes of public transportation. It wasn’t as blissful as summer, but I was with him. So I didn’t care about much else.

 

* * *

 

            _“I’ve been meaning to ask you...”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“Where do you want to fly?”_

* * *

 

Our fingers were laced together beneath the covers, cradling each other’s hearts in our palms. Our eyes were closed because looking into them would have been too overwhelming. I was hurting, and he was hurting, but we were hurting together. Cursed together. At least for now. I listened to the sound of his breathing and felt it against my lips. We might have been asleep—we weren’t, but we might have been. The summer was fading and we could feel the chill from the autumn air flowing in from the window. Always open.

            Just in case.

            He said something, I think, and I heard it, but I don’t remember what he said. I wish I did. I wish I remembered every breath, every syllable, every twitch of his skin and every beat of his heart. I remember that, somehow, he didn’t smell like cigarettes. No. Like black tea, ginger, a little hint of lavender. I wondered what I smelled like to him.

            What do I smell like to you? Empty promises and meaningless proclamations of a love that will surely, surely, surely last an eternity? Or maybe a bonfire, where we burn the remains of our smartphone selfies and refrigerator post-it notes and truncated text messages.

            thx. cya. <3 u. sushi 4 din?

            Actually, I probably smell like the poison I find myself sinking into, but I don’t know what that smells like. It could be lilacs or the ocean or horse shit. I don’t know.

            He must have been reading my mind. He squeezed my fingers and he said, “You smell like home, Eren.”

            “What does home smell like?”

            “I don’t know. But when I breathe you in I smell home.”

            He kissed me and I tasted every truth and every lie that had ever made its way to his sweet, soft lips. There were insults and compliments and curse words and six o’clock in the morning veggie omelets on his tongue as it wrapped around mine. Soaked it with wet, used up cigarette butts thrown from the top of a mountain so high we could see the whole world. I suddenly wanted to learn how to drive a stick shift and wondered why I had never asked him to teach me.

            I said his name and when I did, I was sobbing, because I knew.

            “I love you. I love you so much it hurts. Even knowing where this leads—where it’s going to take me—how far down I’m going to go. I’ll never regret a single moment spent with you, you know that? My heart is yours and my mind is yours and my soul is yours, all of me. Yours. All of me. You know that, don’t you?”

            “Yes.”

            A silence, filled with blood dripping from my lips.

            “You’re mine. I’m yours,” he said. “We can say it a thousand times. A million times. As many times as we want.”

            “Will the word ‘love’ lose its meaning if I say it a certain number of times?”

            “No.”

            “I love you. I love you. I love you...”

           

* * *

 

            _“Hey. If you knew it was going to turn out this way, why did you do it?”_

_“I didn’t have a choice, really. I was yours from the moment you first said my name.”_

_“We always have a choice. Always.”_

* * *

 

He went to the window in the middle of the night, but he didn’t smoke a cigarette. He just leaned his arms against it and stared. I could see the feathers of his wings fluttering. I saw the way that he was digging his nails into the flesh of his scarred arms. He looked like an angel. The kind that is beautiful and merciless, but so unaware of its own beauty. Frightening. Pale and lit up by the gaunt rays of the moon. And he was so still that I wondered for a moment if I were dreaming. But I saw him blink, watched his eyelashes fall and rise up again. I watched the muscles of his body as he breathed, quietly, tenderly. I reached my hand out and thought that maybe, if I try hard enough, I can reach him without him having to move even a little bit. That would be ideal, I thought. If only I could reach out and touch him from here.

            If only from here.

 

* * *

 

            When I fell asleep, I fell asleep knowing that Levi would be gone by sunrise.

            I woke up choking, burying myself in tears, unable to breathe.

            Blind. Deaf. Mute.

            Lost. Shaking. Wailing.

            Alone.

            why didn’t you stop him

            why couldn’t you have loved him right

            but you knew it would end up this way didn’t you

            you stupid fucking idiot you knew it

            why couldn’t you do anything about it

            I lost myself in my sorrow. Surrounded myself with it because I had nothing else to surround myself with. Everything was empty.

            Levi was gone and I was left behind, drowning, soaking myself in the poison he had left me and wasting away in it.

 

* * *

 

            “Hey, Levi.”

            “Yeah?”

            “Would you call yourself rebellious?”

            “Me? No. Not rebellious.”

            “What would you call yourself?”

            “...Nobody.”

            “Then I’ll be nobody with you.”

 

* * *

 

**Epilogue**

**We Are Nobodies**

           

            He didn’t leave a note.

            In fact, he didn’t leave a single trace of the fact that he had even lived here in the first place. He had disappeared into thin air. I had absolutely no way of tracking him. Nobody knew where he had gone. Not Erwin, not Mikasa, not Hanji, not Petra.

            As if he really had spread his wings and flown away.

            I managed to stay in school for the rest of the year, but when the next summer rolled around I did the only thing that I could’ve done. My soul was no longer mine, after all. My heart, no longer mine. They belonged now to a ghost, whose silhouette at the window I still remember like a Polaroid picture in my mind. I was not my own.

            I dropped out, reassuring my friends that I would be back—I just needed some time to find myself again. Search for what I had lost in every corner, every bend, anywhere a reasonable person might think of looking. I followed even though I had so little to go off. Nothing, really. A name, a face, an image, a fleeting memory.

 

* * *

 

            _“Let’s play a game. If you had to guess where I would rather be, anywhere that’s not here, where would it be?”_

_“I don’t know. The beach?”_

_“Trick question! Nowhere. I wouldn’t rather be anywhere than here.”_

           

* * *

 

            You can say it now. You can tell me I’m crazy and I won’t deny it. You’re right. But, really, there’s nothing I can do about it now. It’s been two years and I’m still searching. I taught myself how to drive a stick shift and I managed to scrape up enough money to buy an old used one. Name a place in this country, and by now, I’ve probably been there. I haven’t gotten any closer to finding him.

            I don’t blame him for leaving. It’s something he needed, and something he deserved—I meant what I said when I told him that I believed he could fly, and that if it was something he wanted, he should do it. What were the wings for, then, if not to fly? I think the first time I realized that he was ready was when I walked in on him wreaking havoc on our apartment. When he grabbed me and said, I’m sick of this. But I know that, wherever he is, he’s fighting. He’s fighting for Farlan and Isabel, for the lives lost and relationships gained. He’s doing what he needs to do.

            After he disappeared the police went on a manhunt. I’d forgotten for a moment that he was originally a wanted criminal. They claimed that he betrayed him and, overnight, Levi again became a fugitive. I talked to Erwin about it. He told me that he was upset but didn’t feel really betrayed. Levi had done what he could and it wasn’t right to keep him tied down here. I agreed.

            Knowing that doesn’t make it hurt any less, and it doesn’t make me want to find him any less. I love him in the same way that I loved him then, I want him in the same way that I wanted him then, and I am still completely his.

            Armin and Mikasa told me not to. They begged me to stay in school—at least graduate—but I can’t. Not after giving myself up like that.

            I know Mikasa was upset, too. But she’s always been much better at hiding her feelings and acting pragmatically than me.

 

* * *

 

            _“If I were kidnapped, would you come looking for me?”_

_“What kind of stupid question is that? Of course I would.”_

_“Okay, just checking.”_

* * *

            Here I am. Sick in love and searching for the devil I sold my soul to. Not to get it back, but to know that he still has it.

            I want to know where he always used to stare. When he was at the window. I always assumed it was the sun as it rose or set, or maybe the moon. Maybe nothing at all. But I’m convinced now that he was staring—and is probably still staring—at a very specific place. I always wanted to know, even when I used to sit in bed and watch him. I didn’t recognize the desire, the hunger in his eyes then, but I can see it now. There, on the horizon, is a place that Levi needs to fly to. What I don’t understand, though, is why he has to do it alone. Why can’t he take me with him. Why can’t he keep loving me, what is so _wrong_ about being so in love with someone that it hurts?

            A load of shit coming from me, I know.

            I call him every day. I never expect him to answer. For all I know, he’s changed his name and his number and is in a different country where he can’t receive stupid phone calls from stupid kids. But I still call him. Every day it’s the same: it rings five times, and then goes to voicemail. I wish that he had recorded his voice telling people to leave a message, but Levi was never so trite, so I don’t even have that to remember him. After the tone, I leave a message. Telling him about my day. About people I meet, places I go. He used to tell me how much he loved to hear my voice. How it calmed him when he felt that he was going crazy. I know, somehow, that he hears my voice and it reminds him of himself again.

            “Hey, it’s me. Again. I mean, who else would it be, right? Anyway, uh, wanted to say hello. And I miss you. Today I drove all day. I didn’t stop to eat because I wasn’t hungry. Arctic Monkeys came on the radio and I remembered that time I came to your apartment to bring you the Arctic Monkeys CD. It’s always the little things that remind me of you—not that I forget about you for a single moment. Lame, I know, but it’s true. I know I say this to you every day, but...I don’t know. I feel like it’s not that bad to hear someone tell you how much they care about you every day. Whatever you’re doing, wherever you are, I hope that my voice still makes you feel the same way it used to.”

            I pause and crush my cigarette butt beneath the heel of my boot.

            “You told me that you’d always love me, and maybe that was a lie, but...maybe it wasn’t. I’d like to think it wasn’t. You know how I feel by now, don’t you. I’ll love you every second of every minute of every day that I’m alive. You know that. I told you so many times. I don’t know what to do when I’m not loving you. Anyway, I have to get back on the road. I love you, Levi. I love you so much. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

            I get back into the car and put the keys into the ignition.

            “I hope your wings are serving you well. One of these days I’ll see you soar. I swear it.”

            I hang up and toss my phone into the passenger’s seat. I light another cigarette. Then I pull out of the gas station and I drive—letting my gaze move up to the sky every few moments. Waiting to see the glistening, black feathers.

            I’m comfortable with the fact that, now, we are truly nobodies together.


End file.
